Aureole absently played with the hem of her jacket. She cleared her throat. ‘Could you give me some more tips on speaking English?’ The look on her face told James that it had taken a lot for her to ask.
‘Sure,’ he said. ‘You’ve got the basics right. Like you say all the words in the right order and stuff, but you’re too precise. You need to . . . to be lazier.’
‘Lazier?’
‘Yeah . . .’ James scratched the side of his head; it was difficult to explain. ‘For instance, take the word “yeah”. It’s sort of the lazy way to say “yes”. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yes, I think I do. I mean – yeah,’ replied Aureole, her lips curving into a smile.
They discussed different words and the lazy way to say them for ages. Aureole even invented some new ones, though James pointed out that most of them sounded like swear words.
When they had nearly forgotten all about the sailor they were supposed to be watching, the man stood up, extinguished the remains of his cigarette under his boot and began walking directly toward them. James felt his heartbeat quicken and wondered if Aureole’s had done the same. The sailor kept coming. Maybe he’d noticed them looking at him. Was he about to confront them and ask them questions? In a panic, James did the first thing that sprang to mind, grabbed Aureole in his arms and planted his mouth over hers. The sailor sauntered past a few seconds later, only briefly glancing at them.
Aureole stiffened, placed her hands on James’s chest and pushed him away. ‘What did you do that for?’ Her face was flushed bright red.
‘I thought he was going to talk to us.’
‘You have been watching too many movies. You are not Cary Grant, you know.’ She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, glaring at him.
James pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. ‘Who?’
Aureole slapped him hard across the face.
‘What did you do that for?’ he said, clamping a hand to his face. He could feel his cheek glowing hot.
‘For kissing me without permission,’ said Aureole through clenched teeth.
‘I was only trying to . . . I didn’t want him to see our faces,’ said James. He rubbed the side of his face, which was stinging. ‘I can’t believe you slapped me.’
Aureole crossed her arms. ‘I can’t believe you kissed me.’
‘It wasn’t a real kiss.’
‘Well, it wasn’t a real slap.’ Aureole’s gaze suddenly shifted to behind James and she half-whispered, ‘Come on, he’s getting away.’ She scrambled up and started after the sailor. James obediently followed, still rubbing his face and wondering what a real slap from her must feel like.
They caught him quickly. The sailor clearly wasn’t in a hurry to return to his ship. James knew it took a certain type of person to live at sea for months without ever sighting land. His grandfather had been a keen fisherman and he’d heard many stories over the years, especially about how the old man loved to watch stormclouds building over the ocean at the end of the day. The sailor kept glancing up at the sky as he walked along.
After what seemed like a long detour, they arrived at the whaling boat. It was much larger than James had imagined. From the deck to the top of the gantry must have been at least the height of three storeys; below deck looked even bigger. Huge blue tarpaulins hung over the sides of the hull, maybe trying to hide any Japanese script. Down the side of the ship, big white letters in English remained uncovered.
‘Don’t they realise that everyone knows whaling boats have the word RESEARCH written on them?’ muttered James. He was against whaling; it was cruel and pointless.
Except for the sailor they had followed, who had just walked up the gangplank and disappeared from view, there was no one else around.
‘Where is everyone?’ whispered Aureole.
James looked at his watch and shrugged. ‘It’s half-past five. I guess they’re finished for the day. They’re probably below deck, relaxing or something.’
‘We will come back when it is dark,’ suggested Aureole. James didn’t feel like arguing with her.
~
A few hours later, the ship’s silhouette was nearly invisible against the still, dark water. Only a few glowing portholes gave away its position.
‘It must be a new moon,’ said James, searching the night sky.
‘Good, that makes it easier for us,’ said Aureole. She held out her arm to stop James moving forward.
‘What’s wrong?’
Aureole motioned toward the gangplank. ‘Over there. I think I saw some movement.’
James squinted. ‘I can’t see anything. I don’t know how you can either, still wearing your sunglasses.’ He waved a hand in front of her face to make his point.
‘Put yours on and you will find out,’ she said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
James put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his sunglasses, slipped them on. ‘I can’t see anything now.’
Aureole sighed, reached across, and gently pushed on the side of his frames. ‘Wow! They’re like night vision goggles,’ said James.
‘Keep your voice down,’ whispered Aureole.
‘Sorry,’ whispered James.
Peering over to the gangplank, again, which was now clearly visible, James could see that Aureole was right. The sailor they had followed earlier was sitting at the bottom of the gangplank and had just lit up a cigarette. ‘Should we wait until he leaves?’
Aureole shook her head. ‘I will be fine getting past him. You go and I will meet you at the back of the boat.’
‘The stern,’ corrected James.
‘Whatever, just go.’
James looked at her uncertainly. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Go!’ She gave him a gentle shove to get him moving.
Hastily, he made his way to the other end of the ship, glancing back only for a second as Aureole headed up the gangplank and disappeared from view. He decided it was best to fly close to the ship’s hull in case more sailors appeared. When he reached the side rail, he did a quick scan for any signs of life. Nothing stirred. With a swivel motion, he flung himself over the rail and stood on the ship’s deck. So far, so good.
James had expected the deck to be open and spacious, but it lay cluttered with thick ropes, large wooden crates and PVC pipes. As on most ships, rust marks ran down the bulkheads and along the deck. The same salty smell wafted through the air, but there was another smell mixed with it. He didn’t recognise the unusual odour. Probably whale’s blood, he thought with a shudder. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement and dived for cover.
‘It is only me,’ came Aureole’s voice in a whisper. ‘Find anything yet?’
‘No. You?’ replied James softly as he crawled out from behind a large crate.
‘No.’
‘It could take us all night to find anything,’ said James. ‘This place is a mess.’
Aureole pushed a pipe away with her foot. ‘Yes, I thought the deck would be clear.’
‘I guess it’s part of their disguise.’ James glanced up, had an idea. ‘How about I fly up to that gantry. See if I can spot anything from there?’
Aureole nodded. ‘Be careful,’ she whispered, and James raised his eyebrows. ‘I just don’t want you falling and alerting the whole crew to our presence,’ she said.
‘I’ll try my best not to die too loudly.’ James thought he saw her cheeks flush. He pushed off from the deck and flew quietly up to the top of the gantry, avoiding the steel cables lacing the metal frame. Once he had a clear view, it didn’t take long to spot something unusual. Moments later, he was back, picking himself up off the deck.
‘You really need to practise those landings, Bird Boy,’ said Aureole, half a smirk on her face.
‘I might have crashed, but at least I did it quietly,’ said James, dusting himself off.
‘Did you see anything?’ Aureole looked at him, hopeful.
‘Besides seagull droppings, you mean?’
> ‘Yes, besides that.’
‘As a matter of fact,’ said James with a smug smile, ‘I did.’
THIRTY-FIVE
Whaling Ship, Repair Bay, Port River, Adelaide, South Australia
Hearing loud footsteps approaching, James grabbed Aureole by the arm and dived between two large crates. They lay deathly still, too scared even to breathe. The footsteps came closer, stopping a mere metre away from where James and Aureole hid. James moved his head ever so slightly for a better look, but saw only a pair of white gumboots. After what seemed like ages, the gumboots walked on, disappearing into the darkness.
James exhaled. ‘That was close,’ he whispered.
‘Too close,’ Aureole whispered back. ‘We need to be more careful.’ She stood up and dusted herself off.
‘It’s kinda fun though, isn’t it?’ said James. There was a buzz in his body he couldn’t explain. He felt super alert.
‘Yes, it is,’ said Aureole, flashing a guilty smile. ‘So, what did you see when you were up on the gantry?’
‘A dark, square area over towards the other side of the ship. I think it’s a tarpaulin, which might be covering a hole.’
‘Portside?’ said Aureole, pointing to her left as she faced the bow of the ship.
‘Yep, portside,’ said James.
Aureole led the way, quickly navigating through the maze of crates and pipes. The night vision sunglasses made it a lot easier, or at least James thought so until Aureole took her next step. There was a sudden whoosh as her body disappeared, leaving only her head sticking above deck. It happened so quickly, James didn’t have time to react. He gazed down at her. He’d been right about the tarpaulin. The ropes securing it to the deck were the only things that had saved her from falling straight through.
‘I think I may have found the hole,’ she said in a calm voice.
James tried his best to stifle a laugh.
‘Well, are you going to help me out?’ she said, stretching out her arm.
‘Sorry,’ said James, reaching out to grab her hand. Aureole’s feet kept slipping on the damp tarpaulin as he struggled to lift her out. ‘I think you need to lose some weight,’ he grunted with one final heave.
‘What?!’
‘Nothing,’ said James, realising his mistake. Aureole’s face was only a few millimetres from his. If she could have breathed fire, he may have been burnt alive. He took a step back. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it. I don’t think you’re fat or anything.’
Aureole crossed her arms and tapped a foot, as if to say, ‘Go on, I dare you.’
‘It was just a . . .’ spluttered James. How could he stop from making things worse? He had seen his father cringing under his mother’s fury plenty of times before; it was not a pretty sight.
Aureole waved her hand in the air and said, ‘Forget it.’
James let out a small sigh of relief as she turned and headed back the way they’d come. ‘Where are we going?’ he whispered after her.
‘To find where this hole goes, of course.’
Below deck, an eerie silence filled the dimly lit passageway, only interrupted by the occasional metallic creak as the boat shifted in the water. James made a face and then pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose. The pungent smell of fish hung heavily in the stale, dank air. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he followed Aureole down the narrow passageway. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to run and only one exit; not the best situation to be in.
Using hand signals, Aureole motioned that they needed to go down another flight. James nodded. The hole on the upper deck was at least a metre in diameter, which meant the SAFFIRE would be at least two or three levels below them.
The next floor down looked the same as the one above. It would be easy to get lost on this ship. Gently, James placed his ear to the nearest cabin door. Rhythmic snoring told him this must be the sleeping quarters. Aureole tugged on his sleeve and pointed down the passageway to a thin strip of light that lay diagonally across their path. It came from a cabin near the end of the passageway and, as they inched closer, voices, talking and laughing, became clearer. James, his heart racing, sneaked a peek through the crack of the open door. A group of sailors were playing cards in a smoky room. They were so engrossed that James and Aureole managed to slip by unnoticed.
‘It must be the next cabin,’ James whispered.
He placed his ear against the door and listened for any noise. When he was satisfied that the cabin was empty, he gently opened the door and they both crept in. There was a bunk against one wall with the sheets in an awful mess, and a hole right in the middle of the deck, surrounded by twisted shards of metal. Aureole stuck her head over for a closer inspection. Unable to resist, James gave her a little nudge, just enough to make her lose balance, but in less than a second she had steadied herself, spun around and thumped him hard on the arm. James let out a muffled cry, rubbing his arm.
‘Do not be an idiot,’ she hissed. ‘This is not a game.’
‘I know,’ whispered James.He pointed at the hole. ‘How far down does it go?’
‘I cannot tell. Maybe all the way to the engine room. It is too dark, even for night vision.’
They moved back into the corridor and had only taken a few steps when a door opened outwards a few feet in front of them. James grabbed Aureole by the collar of her jacket and pulled her against the wall. A sleepy sailor stepped out and staggered off in the other direction. They didn’t exhale until the sound of the sailor’s footsteps had gone around a corner.
‘We had better find the ladder down before he decides to come back,’ said Aureole, tugging on James’s sleeve as he tried to stick his head into the now vacant cabin.
‘It’s quite roomy in here,’ he managed to say, before being dragged away.
‘And they say women are nosy,’ groaned Aureole.
Not surprisingly, the engine room was at the bottom of the ship. In the pitch black, James searched around for a light switch, eventually locating it on the outside of the hatchway.
Aureole held her hand over her mouth and nose and grimaced. ‘Even with the engines off, it is still very fumy down here,’ she said.
James let out a slow whistle. ‘Holy macaroni, would you look at the size of that engine. It’s enormous! I’d hate to work down here. The noise must be deafening.’
As they walked along one side of the engine, he noticed part of the casing was torn and bits of twisted metal were piled against the hull.
‘That must be why it took them so long to reach port,’ said Aureole. She stooped and picked up a piece of metal. ‘The SAFFIRE hit the engine.’ She glanced around, deciding what to do next. ‘You take that side, I will take this side,’ she said in hushed tones.
‘Why do you always have to tell me what to do?’ said James, frowning.
‘Because I am older. And if you have forgotten, you are helping me, not the other way round.’
‘That’s right,’ said James, folding his arms. ‘I am helping you, so you should be nicer to me.’
Aureole glared at him. ‘Now is not the time to pick a fight. We are trespassing on a foreign ship, in their engine room, with only one way out. You want to argue about which side to search?’
‘No, I just want to make some of the decisions every now and then.’
Aureole let out a small cry of frustration. ‘Fine,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘Which side do you want to search?’
James shrugged indifferently. ‘I don’t care which side I search. That’s not the point I’m trying to make.’
Aureole muttered something under her breath and then walked around to the other side of the engine room. Moments later she whispered, excitedly, ‘James! Come here – I think I have found something.’
THIRTY-SIX
Whaling Ship, Repair Bay, Port River, Adelaide, South Australia
Forgetting his annoyance, James was at Aureole’s side in an instant.
‘Look!’ she said, pointing excitedly at a large indentation in th
e checker-plated metal deck. ‘This must be where the SAFFIRE landed.’
James scanned the area. ‘But it’s not here now. I wonder where it went?’
‘Maybe it rolled under something.’
They got on their hands and knees and started searching under the pipes and cables running alongside the engine. Oil and grease clung like brown mucus to their fingers and clothes.
‘This is gross,’ said Aureole, attempting to scrape the muck off her hands onto a thick metal pipe.
‘I think I see something!’ said James. He dropped to the deck and squeezed his arm under a machine covered in dials and switches, but his fingertips could only brush the edge of whatever it was. ‘I can’t . . . quite . . . reach it.’
‘Here, let me try,’ said Aureole, bending down, trying to nudge him out of the way. James threw her a hostile look. ‘Please,’ she added. He pulled back his arm and moved aside.
‘I have it!’ she said moments later. She held the object up to the dim fluorescent light, frowned. ‘What do you think it is?’
James moved closer, eyed the short, blackened, cylindrical object. When Aureole turned it over, he noticed that the tip of one end was slightly lighter in colour. He gave it a gentle poke. It felt soft but crispy at the same time.
Aureole held it up to her nose and gave it a quick sniff. ‘It smells vaguely familiar, but I cannot quite put my finger on it.’
James suddenly gasped and took a step back in horror. ‘I know what it is!’
‘What?’ said Aureole, smelling it again.
‘It’s a – it’s a –’ He could barely spit it out. ‘It’s a charred finger!’
Aureole turned ghostly white. ‘Eww,’ she said and tossed it to him.
‘Yuck, I don’t want it,’ he said and tossed it back to her.
Behind them, an unexpected sound made them turn. There, standing in the hatchway, was a sailor, looking half asleep. Everyone seemed stunned for a moment, staring at each other, then the man began shouting angrily and waving his arms. James couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it wasn’t hard to get the gist of it.
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