We link arms and march off once more. Worst-case scenarios are starting to swirl through my head, so I whistle to distract myself.
Yap, yap, yap. Yap. Yap. It’s the dog we met the other day. My whistling set it off.
‘How did your billycart go?’ a voice calls out.
Joan of Arc is sitting on her front porch, a teapot and two cups on an upside-down milk crate next to her rocking chair.
‘Oh, great, thank you,’ Bella says. ‘I couldn’t have done it without all your wonderful donations.’
Joan slowly steps down onto her path. I know she’s feeble, but I wish she’d hurry up. We are in the middle of an emergency mission, after all.
She reaches the gate and extends her hand to Bella. ‘Congratulations on finishing the race,’ she says. ‘Back in my day, you wouldn’t have caught a girl racing a billycart. Or, rather, we wouldn’t have been allowed to.’
Bella shakes Joan’s hand. ‘Thank you again,’ she says. ‘But we really must be going now.’
Joan nods and turns back to her porch. ‘I’d love to see the billycart some time. I think that’s only fair, seeing I’m its namesake.’
‘Of course,’ Bella calls out, and we hurry away before we get caught up in small talk for any longer.
Thirty seconds down the road Bella grinds to a halt. ‘Wait!’ she yells. ‘How did Joan know we named the billycart after her?’
‘Who cares right now?’ I ask.
‘Trust me.’ Bella tugs me back towards Joan’s house. ‘I think I’m onto something here.’
Yap, yap, yap. Yap. Yap.
‘You’re back,’ Joan calls from her rocking chair. ‘Did you drop something?’
Bella risks a nip and pats the dog to stop its yapping. ‘Joan, how did you know I named the billycart after you?’
Joan picks up one of the teacups and takes a sip. ‘Your grandmother told me. She stopped to pat Maggie when she was on her walk this morning and I invited her up for a cup of tea.’
‘That’s my yiayia!’ I say. ‘We’ve lost her. What time did you last see her?’
‘Let me think.’ Joan takes another sip of tea. ‘She was here for a long while having a good old natter about you girls. She left around two hours ago.’
Emily frowns as she figures it out. ‘Let’s say Yiayia left here around seven-thirty,’ she says. ‘Even at her pace, she should’ve been back ages ago.’
‘Maybe Yiayia didn’t go straight home. Which way did she go when she left here?’ I ask Joan.
Joan leans forward and peers down the road. ‘She veered left past the park towards the fairground. The fair’s in town, you know.’
Bella climbs the gate and jumps onto the porch. She kisses Joan on the cheek. ‘Thanks again, Joan,’ she says. ‘You really are a saviour.’
We don’t even need to consult each other on our next move.
To the fairground it is.
It’s the final day of the fair, which means almost the entire population of The Palms has decided to come along.
It’s chaos, even for a town of only seven hundred people plus tourists.
‘What now?’ Grace asks. ‘Do you really think she’s here?’
The crowd is distracting me.
‘Chloe!’ Bella, Emily and Grace scream my name at once.
I’ve fallen onto the ground. No. Something pushed me onto the ground. I lift my head and realise I’m nose-to-snout with a pig.
‘Sorry about that,’ a boy in a straw hat says. ‘I’m trying to get Josie here to the arena for her race, but she pulled away from me because she could smell cake.’
‘Um, no problem,’ I say as Grace helps me up. ‘I run into cake-eating pigs all the time.’ What else is there to say after being bowled over by a pig?
As I watch the boy jog off with Josie, I smell cake too. My mind drifts back to being on the deck with Emily, swinging in the hammock, talking with Yiayia about the fair.
‘Cake!’ I say.
‘I don’t think we can stop for cake right now, Chloe,’ Emily says. ‘We need to find Yiayia.’
I close my eyes and think harder. ‘Yiayia wanted to see the cake display at the fair!’
Emily’s eyes light up as the memory registers for her too. ‘When we were reading the newspaper, Yiayia specifically said, “Cake display – I would like to see that.”’
We hold hands and run through the masses of people milling in the sideshow alley.
I’m not sure we know exactly where we’re going. Emily has the same realisation and stops at the duck pond.
The stallholder holds up his hands defensively. ‘Look, little lady, there’s nothing shady going on here. I took your advice and made sure—’
‘I just need to know where the cake display is,’ Emily interrupts. ‘Can you tell me?’
The stallholder’s relieved. ‘In the pavilion,’ he says, pointing to the other side of the arena. ‘Better be quick – the cakes are all on sale now because it’s the last day of the fair.’
We race to the pavilion and burst through the doors.
The smell of sugar hits my nose. There are sweets everywhere – cakes, biscuits, pastries. I scan the rows of treats, wondering what would have drawn Yiayia in.
‘There!’ I yell. ‘Baklava!’
We mob the man standing behind the pastries.
‘Have you seen a lady in a purple dressing gown?’ Emily asks.
The man strokes his beard as he thinks. He looks just like my dad. I wonder if he’s Greek too.
‘Kalimera,’ I say. ‘I’m looking for my yiayia.’
Kalimera means ‘good morning’ in Greek.
‘Kalimera sas,’ he says. ‘Please taste my baklava. It has your yiayia’s approval.’
The anti-princesses squeal and jump on the spot.
‘So she was here!’ I ask. ‘Did you speak to her?’
The man pushes his plate closer to my face. I take a piece of baklava and gobble it down to keep him happy.
‘Yes, she was the first one here this morning,’ he says. ‘How could I forget a woman from my homeland?’ The man rubs his thumb and forefingers together. He wants money.
‘Did she tell you her plans?’ I ask. ‘Or where she was going next?’
Emily throws a handful of change at the man in exchange for a bag of baklava.
‘Thank you for your business,’ he says. ‘What was your verdict on my sample?’
His recipe doesn’t come close to being as good as mine, but there’s no time to give him pointers. I tell a white lie. ‘It’s delicious,’ I say. ‘Now what about Yiayia?’
He strokes his beard again. ‘Ah, we spoke about Hydra and how she used to holiday there as a child. She told me she loved Pacific Palms too and that her favourite place was the lake. She was on her way to the lake.’
The lake. Of course. Our special place.
Our holiday is almost over and I haven’t been to the lake with Yiayia.
I’ve been so busy with my friends that I’ve neglected my grandmother. She wanted to feed the seagulls so badly that she went alone.
It’s all my fault.
The forest along the track to the lake is a lot thicker than I remember. I guess that’s what happens when you only visit once or twice a year.
A twig scratches my face as I run along the narrow dirt pathway, but I don’t care. I just need to get to Yiayia.
I sent Bella and Grace back to the holiday house to tell Mum, Dad and Alex where Emily and I were going. They shouldn’t be far away. The lake is only about a ten-minute walk from everywhere at The Palms.
‘Why didn’t we come here earlier?’ Emily asks. ‘I mean, it sounds like it’s an important place to you and Yiayia.’
‘I should’ve come earlier,’ I say, slapping a mosquito as it lands on my cheek. ‘I guess I got sidetracked with the fair and the surfing and the billycart derby.’
Emily’s bottom lip drops. I realise I’ve just blamed the anti-princesses for stopping us coming to the lake.
�
��It’s not your fault,’ I say. ‘Yiayia got sick too. Every time we planned to come here, she seemed to collapse or hurt herself.’
We round a bend and stop suddenly. A torrent of water is running across the track up ahead.
‘That doesn’t look like a lake,’ Emily says. ‘It’s more of a river.’
I cautiously walk closer to the water. I dip my finger in and taste it. ‘That’s sea water. The tide must be coming in.’ I need to see past the river to get my bearings. ‘Can you give me a boost up into this tree?’ I ask Emily.
She links her fingers and I stand on her hands, grab the lowest limb of the tree and pull myself onto it.
There’s a blur of blue in the distance. It’s the lake. And in between there’s a strip of land, like a mini-island.
‘What can you see?’ Emily asks.
I push some pine needles out of the way.
There she is! She’s lying down. Surrounded by seagulls. ‘Yiayia!’ I scream. ‘I see her!’
Yiayia doesn’t answer or move.
‘Please let her be sleeping. Please, please, please,’ I whisper.
‘We’ve found her!’ Emily yells.
She’s talking to Bella and Grace. They’ve just turned up, dragging the billycart behind them.
‘Where’s Mum and Dad?’ I ask. ‘And Alex?’
‘They weren’t there,’ Grace says, helping me down from the tree. ‘We had to leave a note.’
Without thinking, I run to the water. Grace and Emily grab an arm each and wrench me back. ‘You don’t know how deep it is,’ Grace says. ‘Or how strong the current is.’
The clang of metal jolts me to my senses. Bella is tinkering with the billycart.
‘What is that doing here?’ I ask. ‘And what are you doing with it?’
Bella pulls one of the wheels off its axle. ‘We thought it would get us here quicker than running,’ she says. ‘And now I’m turning it into a raft.’
My heart is pounding and my breath is shortening. I feel like I’m going to spew. They’re all classic symptoms of stress overload. It’s Biology 101.
‘Will it float?’ Emily asks.
‘It’s just a timber frame,’ Bella says. ‘It will be light enough without wheels and axles.’ She kicks the driver’s seat.
‘What are you doing now?’ I ask.
The plastic chair tumbles off as Bella kicks it a second time.
‘I have to make enough room for two people to lie down on this thing,’ she says. ‘Grace is going to paddle Yiayia across the water.’
Grace is a little stunned. ‘You want me to paddle it?’ she asks. ‘Like a surfboard?’
‘It’s either that or wait for the tide to go down,’ Bella says, carrying the raft to the water. ‘Emily, when will that be?’
‘The time between two high tides is twelve hours and twenty-five minutes.’ Emily looks at her watch. ‘Yiayia was on the beach at six, Joan’s house at seven-thirty and the cake display at eight. So, she would’ve made it here before nine and the river must have been a dry bed or very shallow for her to cross. It’s eleven now, so by my calculations the tide is going to get higher before it gets lower. Low tide won’t be here again until around nine tonight.’
Grace flicks off her shoes and rolls up her pants. ‘Well, we don’t have time to wait for the water to recede,’ she says ‘We don’t even have time to go and get help in town. We need to rescue Yiayia ourselves.’
Bella holds the raft steady while Grace lies on top belly-down and shuffles to the front. She dangles her arms into the water and starts to paddle, just like she does on her surfboard.
‘Let’s go,’ Grace says.
Bella launches Grace into the river. The momentum from the push has the raft halfway there. Now it’s up to Grace and her muscles to get the rest of the way to Yiayia.
‘You can do it, Grace!’ I yell.
Grace is paddling hard. ‘The current’s not too strong!’ she calls. ‘Just a few more strokes!’
I climb back up the pine tree so I can see Grace and Yiayia. Thump. The front of the raft hits land and we all squeal.
Grace jumps off and drags it out of the water. ‘Yiayia!’ she calls. ‘It’s me, Grace! I’m here!’ She puts her ear up against Yiayia’s chest. ‘She’s breathing!’
I cross my fingers in hope that Yiayia has just fainted again. Maybe she was light-headed after walking so far on her own.
‘She won’t wake up!’ Grace yells.
Bella and Emily are waiting for instructions from me, but I don’t know where I fit. Bella used her awesome talent to knock together the raft, Emily figured out the timing of the tides with her maths skills, and Grace’s strength got the raft across the water. I feel so helpless.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ I say.
Emily calls out to Grace. ‘You have to get Yiayia on the raft!’ she calls. ‘Unconscious or not!’
Grace hooks her elbows through Yiayia’s armpits and drags her across the ground. She slides her onto the raft and moves her body into the middle of the wooden frame.
‘Be careful, Grace!’ I yell.
Grace slowly pushes the raft into the water and climbs on. This time, instead of lying down, she kneels.
‘Can you paddle like that?’ Bella asks.
Grace leans forward and pulls at the water with her hands. It looks tougher this way, and the added weight from Yiayia is only making it worse. ‘Don’t worry!’ Grace shouts. ‘I’ve seen lifesavers do this on surf skis!’
The raft is halfway across when Grace starts to lose balance. It wobbles as she falls forward onto her chest.
Bella and Emily scream and I turn away. I whisper to myself, ‘Not much further. Not much further.’
I jump down from the tree so I have a better view of the river.
Grace is back on her knees, paddling like some sort of super duck. ‘We’re okay!’ she yells. ‘Just a little further!’
I take one step into the water. The raft is so close, I can almost reach it.
‘Branch!’ Emily screams. ‘Watch out!’
A tree branch appears out of nowhere between me and the raft.
Grace tries to steer around it, but accidentally spins the raft back towards the island. As she tries to correct the direction, she slips clean off and into the stream.
‘Grace!’ Bella screams.
Grace’s head pops out of the water. ‘I can touch the bottom! It’s okay!’
Bella, Emily and I run into the river and grab the raft. We heave it towards us, but the sudden jerk sends Yiayia sliding off the edge.
All four anti-princesses lunge to lift her above the water. She was only under for a second or two.
I cradle her head while Emily, Bella and Grace grab her arms and legs and carry her to land. We lay her down and I roll her onto her side. I open her mouth to check her airways.
Cough, cough, cough. Cough, cough, cough.
‘Yiayia,’ I say. ‘It’s Chloe. Can you hear me?’
The shock from the dip in the stream has helped liven her up, but she still can’t speak or open her eyes fully. This is more than lightheadedness. It’s got to be the diabetes.
I think back to the information Dr Weal gave us. ‘Hypoglycaemia,’ I say. ‘It’s hypoglycaemia!’
Now it’s the other anti-princesses looking helpless.
‘What can we do?’ Emily asks.
Food. Yiayia needs food. A carbohydrate. Something sugary. Something…
‘Emily, I need your baklava,’ I say. ‘Quickly.’
She doesn’t understand my request, but she hands over her bag of pastries in a flash.
I rub the baklava on Yiayia’s lips. ‘Hypoglycaemia is something that happens to diabetics when their blood glucose gets too low,’ I say. ‘It can happen when you haven’t eaten enough or you’ve exercised too much.’
Yiayia starts to lick her lips. I hold the baklava steady as she takes a nibble. ‘That’s it, Yiayia,’ I say. ‘Eat up.’
Her nibbling grows to proper c
hewing. Her chewing grows to proper eating.
Yiayia reaches up and snatches the bag of baklava from my hands.
She opens her eyes and grins cheekily. ‘That’s not your baklava, Chloe,’ she says. ‘Yours is much better.’
I wrap my arms around her.
‘Chloe! Yiayia!’
It’s Mum, Dad and Alex calling through the trees. They must have got the note.
‘I’m sorry, girls,’ Yiayia says. ‘You must be disappointed in me.’
Emily, Grace and Bella join Yiayia and me in a giant group bear hug.
‘We’re not disappointed, Yiayia,’ I say. ‘Just worried.’
Yiayia sighs. ‘I am not an anti-princess after all,’ she says. ‘I needed rescuing.’
I kiss her forehead. Over and over again. ‘We’ll let you off this time,’ I say. ‘You’re okay, and that’s a fairytale ending I don’t mind.’
Mission Yiayia: complete.
Mum, Dad and Alex were at the police station when Grace and Bella turned up at the holiday house. Apparently they couldn’t take a missing person’s report over the phone.
A paramedic and a police officer arrived at the lake not long after my parents, and they were very impressed by our rescue efforts. The paramedic was especially stoked to hear about the way I handled Yiayia’s hypoglycaemia. He said treating someone with low blood sugar could be a complicated science, but I got it just right.
The day after we arrived home, we found out officially that Yiayia tested positive for Type 2 diabetes. Now that she knows she has it, she can manage it with medication and eating well. And I’ve made it my life’s mission to find a cure for the disease. I thought it was a bit too ambitious when Yiayia first suggested it, but I’m only ten, right? I’ve got my whole life to complete that mission.
About a week after we got back home to Newcastle, Grace got barrelled. All the surfing practice at The Palms must have helped. I set Dad’s camera up on a tripod at the beach and snapped Grace on her board just as she emerged from the tube. We emailed Kailani straightaway. Those kids won’t dare call Grace a kook again.
As for the code of conduct, a bunch of pro surfers read it and are now campaigning for all popular breaks along the coast to erect their own signs. They reckon they should’ve come up with the idea years ago.
Chloe's River Rescue Page 6