Kaimoana Tales
by Kiwi
Riley
Part 25
The caveman was not huge, it was no bigger than Riley was. It was standing, bent forward, with the huge mop of tangled and dirty-looking dark hair hanging over its face. The arms and legs were bare, dirty, muddy and bloody, and it was clothed in something, a blanket? Made of skins and tied in place. Probably possum skins.
Whatever it was, it was filthy. It stunk and it was standing funny, like a monkey would stand, almost upright. Something was not right; it was breathing heavily and making small whimpering noises. This creature, whatever it was, was hurt and it was frightened.
Riley relaxed a bit. He didn't know how he knew, but somehow he knew that it was even more scared than he was. He didn't relax too much though. Even the most timid animals will attack if they're cornered.
But, it wasn't an animal, was it? It was human; it must be. The skin, where he could see it, was totally hairless and it was pale. It was even whiter than he was. Not a maori then. But what the hell was it?
It couldn't be a caveman, could it? No, of course it wasn't. There were no such creatures and hadn't been for a long, long time. Was someone making a movie?
There didn't seem to be anyone else around. If this was an actor, it was a damm job make-up job, and a smelly one. But it had to be a person.
"Umm. Ah. . yeah. Hey, I'm Riley. Don't be scared, I'm quite harmless really. I'm not going to hurt you. What's wrong? You're hurt, aren't you? You've got a lot of blood on you."
The figure's head came up, a hand pushed the hair away from its face and Riley got an even bigger shock. The face was totally beardless. This was just a kid, a boy somewhere around Riley's age and he had the most stunning eyes that he'd ever seen. They were big, round and frightened and they were an amazing, icy-blue, almost grey colour. Whoah!
Wow!
The figure, the boy, stood there, whimpering as he breathed. "Riley," he said.
He looked to Riley's right, and suddenly dashed past him to his left. He ran, with a weird crab-like motion, dragging one foot behind him, back up the beach and scrambled up the bank to the highway.
Riley shook his head, recovered from the shock and ran after him.
"Hey! Wait! It's okay. It's all right!"
He followed him up the bank of loose stones and reached the top just in time to see the panicked boy run out in front of a speeding car. The car braked and swerved, but it clipped him.
The boy's limp body flew through the air and landed on the far side of the road. He lay there unmoving. The car didn't even stop; it accelerated and disappeared down the road and through the tunnel.
"Bastards! Ohmigod! Ohmigod, OHMIGOD!!"
Riley ran across the highway and dropped to his knees next to him. Lord, he stunk! Had he killed him? Was he dead? No, not yet - he was still breathing and those amazing eyes were open and looking at him.
The eyes closed and he sighed and slumped. Damm! No - still breathing. What to do? What the hell was he going to do?
He felt like panicking himself. He got to his feet, lurched to the sea-side of the road and stood there crying and screaming. "Mum! Mum, come here!"
His mother looked back and smiled and waved at him.
"No! No, you stupid bitch! Mum, come here. Come here, MUM!"
She dropped the rod, came up the bank and hurried up the road towards him.
"What is it, Riley? This had better be important! What's wrong?"
"Of course it's fucking important! That boy over there - I think I've killed him!"
"Boy? What boy?"
He couldn't speak, he was crying. He sobbed and waved his shaking hand at the other side of the road. She looked across.
"Oh, that boy. That's a boy?"
Riley followed her back over to the limp figure on the side of the highway. She knelt down and looked closely at him.
"Yes, that's a boy. Lord! What a stink. What happened, Riley?"
"A car! A car hit him and it didn't even stop. I surprised him down by the water, He panicked and ran away, on the road and a car hit him. Oh God! Have I killed him, Mum?"
"No. No you haven't killed him, he's not dead."
"Not yet! What are we going to do?"
"Settle down, Riley. There's no point in you panicking as well." She slapped her pockets, and then looked up. "Have you got your cell?"
"Yes! Yes, I've got my cell." He slapped his own pockets. "Where is it? Here! Here's my cell." He fished his phone out of his pocket.
"That's good. Now ring 111 - get an ambulance."
"Yes, of course. 111. We need an ambulance. We need one now! I'll get an ambulance."
He was still crying, sobbing and shaking as he tried to use the phone.
"Oh, Riley! You're useless. Give it here, I'll do it."
She took the cell from him and dialed.
"Come on, People! Where are you? Oh, hello, ambulance please. Thank you."
A short wait seemed like hours, and then, "Hello? Hello, yes. We need an ambulance please. It's very urgent. A boy has been hit by a car and he's lying on the side of the road, unconscious but he's still breathing.
What? Oh, yes, I'm in Geese Bay, just south of Kaimoana, near the road tunnels on State Highway 1.
This is Dianne Sullivan. Address? Craypot Café, Main Street, Kaimoana. No, I haven't got a clue what the post-code is. Who cares? I'm calling from a cellphone. 021-371476. No, it's not my own phone, it's my son's. That's 371476. What does it matter whose fucking phone it is?
Look, Mister! I'm sitting here with an injured boy on the side of the road and he needs an ambulance, now! If this kid dies while you're mucking around with your bloody paperwork, you are in more trouble than you can imagine. Get an ambulance out here!
No, we have not applied first-aid. There's only my son and I here and we wouldn't know where to start. Yes, of course we'll wait here. Where's that ambulance?
All right then. Thank you."
Riley sat and looked at his mother with awe and admiration. She was generally a fairly quiet and unprepossessing sort of person, but when she was on her high-horse, look out! She was a lawyer too, before she decided that she'd had enough of that life and she'd bought the café. But she still knew which strings to pull. He grinned through his tears.
"What? What are you grinning at?"
"Nothing. Thanks, Mum. I'm glad that you're my mother."
"Yeah? So am I, sometimes. No, forget that - I'm always glad that I'm your mother and I always will be, no matter what. Don't ever forget that."
"Thanks, Mum. I love you too. Where's this ambulance?
"They're on their way. They'd bloody better be! We just have to wait. Who is this boy and why is he got-up like that?"
"I haven't the faintest idea; I've never seen him before. Mum, he's got the most amazing eyes! Incredible. It's like an angel looking out from his grubby face."
"An angel, is it?" She looked doubtfully at the injured boy on the ground. "I don't think an angel ever looked, or smelled, like that one. And, here comes the ambulance. That was good timing."
They could hear the wail of the approaching siren.
"I hope it was good enough."
An ambulance came around the corner and Mrs. S. stood up to wave them down. Riley stayed sitting where he was. They pulled over, off the road, stopped and the driver and a medic jumped out.
"Is this the patient?" The driver asked, looking at Riley.
"No, not me," he replied. "It's this kid here. He's hurt, a car hit him and I think he was injured before that. He was standing, and running, funny and he's got blood all over him."
"Oh, dear! What a mess. What's he wearing? Possum skins? Is there a fancy-dress or something?"
"We don't know," Mrs. S. answered. "He was like that when Riley found him."
"We'd better see what we can do then. Oh, Man! He stinks!"
"I think it's coming from the skins." Riley felt like he had to defend the Kid.
"Whatever's causing it, he stinks." The driver shook his head. "My poor ambulance is going to pong!"
"I'm sure it's seen worse. Stop fanny-arsing about and see to the boy," Mrs. Sullivan replied.
Riley and his mum stood well back and watched as the professionals did their work. They stripped the reeking cloak of skins off him. It was tied with strings of flax in several places. They had to cut them to get the skins off. They left the skins on the ground and flip-flopped the naked boy, to and fro, as they rolled him on to a stretcher.
They lifted it up and slid it on to the racks in the ambulance. The medic got in with him.
The driver said, "Mrs, ah, Sullivan, isn't it? Can you and the lad come in to the hospital, please? I'm sorry, but the paperwork has to be done."
"Of course it does. I'm quite aware of that. I'll just collect-up my gear here, and we'll follow you in to town."
The ambulance turned around and sped back into town with the siren wailing again. Mrs. S. started back for her fishing gear.
"Mum, can't we just leave that and go?"
"Don't be silly, Riley. It makes no difference to him whether we're there or not and I'm not just leaving my gear here. This stuff was expensive."
"Okay then, but hurry!"
"I will, but not too much or you'll have to get them back for me." She went back to the rocks.
Riley stood waiting impatiently. He folded and rolled the skins up, for something to do. He took them to the car.
"What are you doing with that thing?" His mum came back and looked at the bundle he was holding.
"It's his - the caveboy's. We can't leave it here. I'll take it home with us."
"Great! Now the car's going to smell lovely. All right then, if you have to. Put it in the boot and don't you leave it anywhere near my café."
"I won't. Can we go?"
"In just a minute. Patience, Riley."
"Patience, what's that?"
"Shut up, Riley."
The skins went into the boot, on their own. She dismantled the fishing-rod and put all of her gear on the floor in the back. They got in, turned around and went back to town, to the hospital.
They didn't have a siren. Riley wished that they did. He wanted to be there, now! It was odd, those eyes were haunting him.
"Damm, Mum. I so hope I haven't killed him."
"You haven't killed anybody. It was an accident."
"But it was my fault."
"No. It was not."
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead