A Croc Called Capone (16 page)

‘
That's right. They did nothing wrong. I was in their territory.
What should I expect from a wild animal when I'm in his
habitat? If I go to the zoo, I don't hop into the lion enclosure
to enjoy a close-up. And, frankly, if I did then I'd only have
myself to blame if it all went belly-up. Or belly-ripped-up.
'

‘
So you don't think even rogue crocs who kill people should
be culled?
'

‘
Tell you what. You find a saltwater croc in your front room
watching
TV
or raiding your fridge for a bite to eat, then
shoot him. But if they respect our space, maybe we should
respect theirs.
'

‘
And CrocoDyl. What are your views?
'

‘
I'd never seen a crocodile in the wild before. I would like
to think my children and my children's children might be
similarly blessed.
'

My mouth hung open when he said that. But I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. Having Dyl as a best mate should have made me immune to suprises.

Dyl took to the media like a croc to water.

He was brilliant.

He was persuasive.

He was amazing.

The support we received was amazing as well. Pretty soon there were questions being asked in Parliament. Pretty soon the Government announced that plans to allow selective killing of saltwater crocodiles had been shelved. One minister even said, ‘How can we believe we are civilised if we allow this? It has taken a couple of children to make us understand an important truth.'

How cool was that?

When I'd sat on that mudbank, surrounded by crocodiles and one very smelly dog, I'd thought about Al's words. The communication revolution. And how I could use it to give Al what he wanted. It wasn't an unreasonable request. Don't kill us just because you can. But who would listen? People had tried to get this message over before, but it wasn't news. So I realised I had to make it news. And what better story could there be than a small boy – two small boys, as it turned out – wrestling a croc and living to tell the tale?

I thought it would create publicity.

I never thought it would bring about dramatic change in such a short time.

It was a relief to return to something like normality.

Christmas at the Branaghan Wilderness Resort.

Yes, we had gone back to finish the holiday. To be honest, no one felt like going home. For one thing, we were sick of being under a media spotlight and the resort was out woop-woop. It was quiet there. It was peaceful. We were cut off and it suited us.

I rarely followed the news, particularly after the fuss slowed down. But I did catch a story in the local newspaper. It was only one small column, tucked away on page seven. A man, a doctor apparently, had announced the establishment of a charitable trust that he was personally funding. The charity would provide sick children and their families with the opportunity to see endangered animals in their natural habitats. ‘I have given up travelling myself,' said the doctor. ‘But I would like others to experience some of our natural wonders, before it is too late.'

I smiled. Murray had remembered my Christmas present.

I was confident that I would eventually be able to delete those photographs on my camera. After all, he had been prepared to die for us. And I believed his hunting days were over. Did I really
need
to turn those photographs over to the police?
There's good and bad in all of us
, I thought. I had no intention of ruining what was good.

Dyl's parents, Joe and Mo, gave their blessing to us staying on at the resort. They'd been interviewed a number of times on radio and television and really enjoyed themselves. When Dad asked over the phone if they were mad about their son being nearly eaten by a crocodile, not once but twice, they shrugged it off.

‘Worse things happen at sea,' said Mo, though she didn't offer any evidence.

‘Could have happened to anyone,' said Joe.

He was wrong, of course. It could only have happened to Dylan.

Cy Ob Han's parents weren't quite as casual, but Cy pleaded with them over the phone and they finally gave in. Maybe old Cy used her Dark Side powers.

Mum was worried sick about going back to the resort. As far as she was concerned, saltwater crocodiles had proved to be as common as flies. Shoo one away and another takes a nosedive into your drink. All the time we were in the Territory she made Dad check under beds just in case one was napping among the dust bunnies. It was all I could do to persuade her not to check the dunny each time I sat on it, in case a saltie hurtled round the U-bend and took a chunk out of my bum. To this day she gets nervous lowering herself into a bath. Of course, she insisted that none of us left the resort in case a croc was nesting in a tree and dropped on us from a great height. We were happy to oblige. I'd had enough of Nature for a while.

Rose and Cy were firm friends again. The tensions between them had blown away, now they no longer had the hots for Brendan. They cooled off when they discovered he already had a girlfriend – Julie, the chook-dunking chick on the cruise. For some reason Rose and Cy took this as evidence he was a creep and curled their lips whenever he was around. I could only imagine Brendan was relieved not to have them hanging around his neck constantly.

Girls' brains are weird. They don't work the same way as ours.

If you want further proof, Rose's attitude was changing towards me as well. Cy was fine. I'd saved her life
and
I was a media star. She smiled at me all the time, which was slightly creepy. I almost expected her to ask for my autograph. But Rose …

Mum said Rose was jealous. For years, she had been the golden angel child and I'd been a piece of poo. Suddenly, she was in my shadow and she resented it. Whatever. All I know is that, whenever no one was looking, she would suddenly fix me with narrowed eyes and rub a palm over her clenched knuckles. My scalp tingled.

You know what? I preferred that to the possibility of further hugging. It was good to have my sister back. Rose being nice to me? More than slightly creepy.

We opened our Christmas presents on the verandah of Mum and Dad's cabin. After Dad had swept it for lurking salties, naturally.

I got some great stuff. I always get great stuff. But the best part was Dylan's reaction when he opened his pressies. I mean, they weren't really expensive or anything. But he got loads of them. Even Rose and Cy had bought him stuff. They'd got him a cool model of a crocodile on a stand. And the stand had a little plaque on it. CrocoDyl, it said. They must have got it done while we were in Darwin.

I'd wanted to shop in Darwin, but the price of fame was that I had to stay in the hotel. However, I'd given Mum firm instructions. Dyl opened my presents – the boxer shorts, T-shirt and other stuff with cola logos on it. I kept one present back and gave it to him last. He ripped the paper from the small gift and sucked in his breath.

‘Cool,' said Dyl. ‘This is totally cool, Marc.'

The Swiss Army knife was top of the range. It had dozens of gizmos, though I‘d no idea what most of them were for.

‘I bet it's got something for taking stones out of horse's hooves,' said Dyl.

‘I think,' said Dad, ‘it's got a blade for taking boys out of crocodiles' throats.'

‘Really?' said Dyl.

‘No,' we all said together.

‘It's brilliant. Thanks.' Then Dyl's face fell. ‘How am I going to get it back home, though?'

I handed him an envelope. It had stamps on it. And Dyl's address.

‘Ted says he's happy to stick this in the post when we go. Actually, he said “no worries”.'

Then something really strange happened. Dylan produced a clumsily giftwrapped present. He shoved it at me, his face twisted and he ran. He blundered off the verandah, down the path and into our cabin. I was so shocked, I'd got halfway to my feet before Mum's hand pressed me back into my chair.

‘I think he's embarrassed,' she whispered into my ear. ‘This is the only present he's brought. Give him time, love. Open it and talk to him later.'

I did. It was a book. An obviously second-hand book. It had a sticker with the book exchange logo on it. Inside, some strange hand had written, “For Jim on his fiftieth birthday.” The price was still on it. Eight dollars fifty cents. And a promise to give me three dollars back if I exchanged it.

The book was titled
Endangered Animals of Australia
. It had been published in
1992
.

It was the best Christmas present I'd ever received.

When I eventually knocked on the door, heard the muffled ‘Come in' and opened up, Dyl looked as though he'd been having his own private Christmas party. Cola cans littered the bedside cabinet.

Blacky was curled up on my bed, examining his bum with considerable interest.

I hadn't seen him since the episode with Al. Now it appeared he was still bunking down in our cabin.

‘I'm happy to see you, tosh,' he said, extracting his head from his rear end.

‘Really?'

‘Yes. I couldn't operate the air-conditioning.'

Mongrel!

Still, it was the season of goodwill.

‘Merry Christmas, guys,' I said.

‘What?' said Blacky. ‘Peace and goodwill to all men? How about peace and goodwill to all living things? How about …'

‘Blacky,' I said. ‘Shut up, okay? Just shut up. For once in your miserable life.'

So much for goodwill!

‘You'd think that on this day, of all days, you'd want to listen to reason, tosh. But once a human, always a human, I guess.'

I held up my hand.

‘You want reason?' I said. ‘How about this?
You
, bucko, set us up. You put us into serious danger by arranging a trap. You relied on my obviously stupid trust in you. And betrayed it.'

‘Yeah, but …'

‘I haven't finished,' I said. ‘Not only that, but how did Al
know
about the government's plan to introduce croc hunting, hey? I think we can eliminate the Internet as a source of information. I doubt he reads the local newspaper. We've covered the watching-the-local-news-onthe-plasma-
TV
angle. Only one explanation adds up. Someone – correction, some thing –
told
him. I wonder who that could have been.'

There was silence for at least a minute.

‘The ends justify the means,' said Blacky finally. ‘We have righted an injustice. Two injustices.' But his voice didn't sound convinced.

‘We could've
died
, Blacky. Don't you care about us at all?'

The silence was even longer this time.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘I do. But … hey, Marc. You guys did an awesome job. I was proud of you. And I never really believed you'd be in danger. Not really. Probably not. Maybe not.'

I didn't say anything. Dylan gazed at me, but he didn't speak. I think he realised something important was going on between me and Blacky.

‘I'm leaving soon,' said Blacky. ‘Jobs to do. You know how it is.'

‘When?'

‘Now. I have to go. But, Marc … if you want, I can leave you alone from now on. You know … you've done enough. More than I would have thought possible. If anything comes up in the future, I could always find someone else. Give you a break.'

I folded my arms.

‘There are, what, another four people in Australia with powers like mine? Isn't that it?'

‘Something like that.'

‘So you could afford to do
without
my help?'

‘If necessary. Wouldn't be good, but I'm serious. You've done enough.'

‘Wrong, Blacky,' I said. ‘It's never enough. You come back again, okay? If we are needed.'

If a dog could smile, Blacky smiled.

‘All right, tosh,' he said. ‘If you insist. Now I must go.'

‘Before you do,' I said, ‘I have a present.' I pulled a wrapped package from my bedside cabinet and held it towards him.

‘Merry Christmas.'

Blacky's nose twitched.

‘How original!' he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘A
bone.
Well, gosh, golly and strike me down with a feather duster. Let's all live the cliché, shall we? How about I roll over, play dead and then go and bury it while everyone talks about how cute I am?'

‘Not much chance of that,' I replied. ‘And it's great to see your gentle side didn't last long!'

‘Sorry, mush,' said Blacky. He sounded sorry, too. ‘I have been very ungrateful and insensitive. But, as it turns out, I have a present for you guys, as well.'

‘You do? What is it?'

‘This.'

I didn't see him leave. One moment he was there, lying on my bed. The next he'd disappeared. But he'd found time to unwrap his present for us.