SHADOW OF A RECLUSE 

By Tessa Harvey

    Hunter was in serious trouble. Unable to get reception, he had talked with Marie. To get to his own 4WD was difficult and it would soon be dark. The trees were casting long shadows behind the cabin he had rented. The young woman assured him no-one would worry if she stayed the night. For them both he provided canned soup. It was pea and ham and smelled delicious in the pan on his wood-burning stove. Marie had also asked for a cup of tea. In some musty, dusty corner, he had found an old packet of good old Irish tea. Her face had lit up. The dog was watching him with hungry eyes.

    Some more searching in cupboards yielded a battered tin of sardines. Poor sardines, he thought fleetingly, bait balls to fishy predators and humans. To his surprise the dog had eaten the lot.

    In the night as he slept on an old couch, Marie woke up, staggering from the small single bed. She was delirious and vomiting, looking out of the window and pointing at a car factory on the plateau!! Concussion. Cursing himself for a fool, Hunter had finally slid down the hill to find reception. The paramedics had easily evacuated Marie. The police were not impressed with Hunter. "Don't leave," they ordered. To us, this looks like assault.