Free Jack's Island by Norman Jorgensen Page A

stood and shook his hand. ‘Captain,’ he said. ‘I am a man of few words, as you know.’ He got that part right. ‘However, it’s at times like this, when a man puts himself in certain danger, like you did, to help...’ Dad didn’t seem to know how to continue. He wasn’t choked up or anything, more like lost for words. He’d never had to say anything like this before.
    â€˜Captain,’ he tried again before reaching down and picking up the brown paper parcel he’d been carrying. ‘Mrs Jones and I would appreciate it if you would accept this small gift, this token as a mark of our thanks in saving...’
    â€˜Mr Jones, you have no need...’ started Captain Jansen, holding up his palm.
    â€˜Indeed I do have need. And Little Eric. Christian.’ He looked at the two young men. ‘Indeed I do. I cannot be beholden to any man and you have no idea what your actions yesterday meant to us. No-one else would have taken a boat out in those seas. No-one. And Little Eric? Diving into the sea like that...’
    Captain Jansen smiled. He looked at his two big sons and said, ‘I think I just might have some idea, Rob. I think I might. I’m very proud of them.’ He ruffled Little Eric’s hair like he was just a kid and took the parcel. Little Eric looked embarrassed. He was taller than his father.
    As Captain Jansen undid the paper I recognised the polished mahogany box. It contained the antique matching flintlock pistols that had belonged to my grandfather in England. They were worth a fortune. He opened the lid, blinked and stared for a long time. ‘Rob, for the love of Odin, I cannot accept these.’
    Mum rose to her feet. ‘For the boys, then. For their future.’
    â€˜But your son?’ Mrs Jansen spoke for the first time. ‘For Jack’s future?’
    â€˜He very nearly didn’t have a future. If it hadn’t been for you and your family...’ Mum left the sentence unfinished, obviously not wanting to imagine her favourite son floating face down, or worse, bitten in half by a huge shark.
    In the awkward moment and embarrassed silence that followed, everyone in the room had the same thought. Did any of us really have a future? Darwin, Broome and Onslow had been bombed by the Japs. The HMAS Sydney had been sunk just off the coast, and the Japanese invasion fleet could still appear over the horizon.
    Then Dad seemed to relax. As he’d said, he hated being beholden to anyone and the pistols helped even the score. And as far as my dad was concerned, this was a big score.
    Captain Jansen went to the sideboard. ‘Rob, this calls for a glass of my special winter warmer. In the old country we called it Thor’s Hammer.’
    Both Mum and Mrs Jansen stared at him aghast. It wasn’t even lunchtime.
    Dad sipped from the small glass and his eyes widened in surprise. He coughed several times. ‘Thor’s Hammer, eh? For obvious reasons, I see.’
    â€˜The nights are very long and very cold in Denmark. A shot or two of Thor’s Hammer warms the blood,’ said Captain Jansen with relish. ‘And guards against trolls.’ He laughed and threw his drink back in one gulp. ‘Death to trolls,’ he said before reaching for the bottle again.
    That afternoon I had to chop the wood and do extra chores because as soon as we got home Dad stumbled straight into bed and stayed there until the next morning. And boy, did he look crook.

Test-firing the Guns
    Banjo and I were riding past the pilot’s house when we saw the poster on the noticeboard. It was written by Colonel Hurley warning everyone at the settlement not to be alarmed because the army was going to test-fire the huge naval guns that guarded the island. Us alarmed? He had to be kidding. We couldn’t wait.
    â€˜When’s it going to happen?’ asked Banjo.
    â€˜This afternoon. Two o’clock.’
    Banjo looked up at the