Dave squatted and pulled Mon up onto the wall. ‘There.’
‘Oh …’ Mon wobbled and clutched the beam.
The wooden wall had looked high from the pier, but from the top it was a cliff. He was standing on old timber no wider than his foot, and which dropped a long way to the green water. He could see the wall slicing down into the depths of that green water with some sunbeams chasing it, but there was no trace of a sea floor and he could not see a single fish.
Mon managed to stop wobbling and breathed heavily. ‘It’s a long way down,’ he said.
‘You get used to it.’ Dave offered him a tube of peppermints.
Mon shook his head slowly, but he took a peppermint.
‘What, you don’t have water like that where you came from?’
‘Not like this. It was a muddy river.’
‘Then it wasn’t as good as this.’ Dave said.
Mon frowned a little. ‘But there were fish in the muddy water. Always. There’s no fish down there.’
‘Maybe it’s too hot for a fish to swim.’ Dave shrugged.
‘Hey, jump!’
The bunch of kids that Mon had passed on the pier had given up the flattened tin and was leaning on a rail. ‘Jump!’
Mon shook his head and jerked back from the drop.
‘You jump!’ Dave shouted back.
The kids chanted: ‘Jump, jump, jump!’
‘Oh, shut up!’ Dave yelled. Then he looked down at the distant green water and suddenly grinned at Mon. ‘Hey, it’s not a bad idea. Can you swim?’
‘A bit.’
‘Well, let’s go!’
‘From here?’
‘Yeah. Show them.’
‘I —’
Dave stepped out into the air.
For Mon, everything slowed down in one long moment. It was like watching ice cream melt. He saw Dave wobbling his eyebrows at him then slowly raise his arms and turn to the shouting kids. The kids were stretching over the rail with their mouths open as Dave hung over the rippling green water, smiling at them.
Then one of the boys yelled: ‘Look out, he’s doing a bomb!’
The kids stopped shouting and pushed away from the rail and each other.
But it was too late. Dave folded his legs, the water exploded from him, hurling a wave and foam at them. They stumbled back, coughing and spluttering as Dave ploughed into the deep.
Mon searched the surging water for an anxious second, until Dave slid through the jostling bubbles to the surface. Dave waved him to come down, but he seemed very small in the water. One of Mon’s legs was quivering.
‘Come on, come on, Mon!’ Dave shouted. ‘It’s great down here. Cool, man.’
‘Yeah, jump!’ a boy shouted as he wiped his face.
‘Jump, jump!’ The dripping kids came back to their rail.
Mon stared down at the kids then at the lapping water, so far below. He looked at Dave, but he had quietened and was now waiting.
‘I can’t …’ Mon shook his head.
The shouters chanted at him again.
Mon closed his eyes and sighed very heavily. He stepped back a little, and climbed down from the wall.
‘Chicken, chicken!’ Some of the boys were running around the pier like hens.
Mon lurched slowly away from the sea wall towards the distant beginning of the pier.
Dave pulled himself out the water on a landing ladder and climbed to the pier. He looked at the boys, still clucking at each other, then he watched Mon slouching far away on his own. He sucked his lip in hesitation, but he saw that Mon had left the rod and bucket against the sea wall. He picked them up and jogged wetly after him.
‘Hey, hey! You forgot these,’ Dave called as he caught up with Mon.
Mon turned, almost reluctantly. ‘Oh, thank you,’ he said thickly. He took them from Dave.
‘Where are you going?’
Mon shrugged. ‘Maybe home.’
‘Nah, I know some rocks that are good for fishing.’
‘I don’t feel like fishing any more.’
‘Don’t be like that,’ Dave said. ‘Hey, I got a neat couple of trees at my place. Even great for Tarzan.’
‘Tarzan?’
‘You know, swinging around the trees, and yelling like apes …’
‘Wrestling with crocodiles, yeah everyone knows that.’
‘Like to come round? No water, no crocs. Only a bull.’ Dave was smiling.
Mon looked at Dave and hesitated. ‘I don’t know …’
‘Course, if you get scared of trees …’
Mon sucked in a breath. ‘No, I’m not scared of trees.’
‘Bulls?’
‘I’m not afraid of bulls.’ Mon sucked his lip. ‘Well …’
‘Anyway it’s always behind a fence.’
‘Oh, that’s all right.’
Dave grinned at him. ‘So let’s go.’
Mon dragged a foot on the planks, then he bobbed his head and followed the dripping Dave.
They walked off the pier, along the curve of the beach, past a low cliff and left the little town behind. Dave was dry by the time they reached the two fir trees, which towered over a paddock and a sprawling house.
Mon stopped in the middle of the dirt road and stared in silence.
He had never seen trees this tall in his life. When he looked up to the top of the nearest tree his neck ached – the tip seemed to scrape the clouds. And that was the shorter tree. If you climbed the big one you could catch an eagle.
‘Yeah. They’re great aren’t they?’ Dave said.
A gust of wind swept past Mon, and the trees’ long, feathery branches stroked each other softly.
‘Yeah,’ Mon said. But he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the giant trees were whispering about him.
Dave led Mon past the taller tree, where a low branch stretched over a barbed-wire fence. Dave grabbed a thick rope that was dangling from the branch, and climbed up a soil hump near the fence.
Mon followed him, looking over the empty paddock. ‘Where’s the bull?’
‘Coloss?’ Dave squinted across the fence. ‘There.’ He pointed to a distant corner.
Mon saw a straggly tree and something that looked like a cow was grazing in its shade. ‘Oh,’ he said, slightly disappointed.
Dave shrugged. ‘He doesn’t like me. Here we go!’
He jerked the rope, making the branch shake. He leapt from the hump, spread his legs and yelled. He zoomed beside the barbed-wire fence, over a muddy puddle, and soared towards a branch on the other tree. He clutched at the branch and swung a leg over it.
The bull lifted his head.
Dave turned around and pushed the rope towards Mon. Mon caught the rope, flexing his hands as he looked at the barbed-wire fence, the muddy puddle, and Dave sitting in the other tree.
Mon thought: I can do this. It is easy.
The bull moved out of the shade.
Mon sucked in a breath and jumped from the hump.
‘Yay!’ Dave yelled. He sprang to his feet on the branch and prepared to catch Mon.
Mon skidded close to the fence – close enough for him to see a snatch of hair caught on one of the rusty barbs – and then swept over the puddle. His feet glanced over a straw in the mud. But now he was beginning to fly.
He could feel his shirt fluttering, his hair streaming, his legs wobbling in the air, and he was grinning. He soared towards the sky, missing the branch, but Dave clutched him and pulled him down.
‘Wow!’ Mon yelled.
‘Yeah!’ Dave snatched the rope, beat his chest and swung with a wild cry, ‘Oohaleehoo!’
The bull started to trot towards the cry.
Dave landed on the hump, ran two steps and stopped. He pushed the rope back to Mon, who leaped at it before it reached him. Mon bellowed, ‘Cayarreooo!’, spread his legs and swept down to Dave on the hump.
Dave said, ‘Eep!’ and ducked.
Not enough though. Mon collided with Dave and let go of the rope. The
y toppled over the top of the hump, and tumbled down to the bottom in a confusion of arms and legs.
Mon looked out over Dave’s right knee. ‘Um, I’m sorry …’
But Dave padded him away. He couldn’t speak because he was laughing too much.
Which set Mon off. For a while he had trouble catching his breath.
But he stopped immediately when he saw the bull close up.
Mon sat up. ‘Oh boy,’ he said softly.
‘What?’ Dave rolled over. ‘Oh, him.’
The bull was standing no more than five metres away on the other side of the fence, and Mon had never seen anything like Coloss. The bull was big – he was huge – but it wasn’t just that. Mon had wandered past elephants in the old days, like grey moving walls, and Coloss was not as big as those. In fact, he wasn’t much bigger than water buffalo, the great lump of hamburger that walks in its sleep. A kid could sleep on the back of a water buffalo.
But Coloss wasn’t a water buffalo.
It’s the eyes. The eyes of Coloss were flickering like fire as he watched Mon, as if he was trying to work out how to get past the barbed-wire fence to reach him. And when Coloss moved his massive head, the points of the curved horns gleamed, showing that they were as sharp as a sword.
Mon shivered in the hot afternoon as he realised that Coloss wanted to use those horns on him.
Coloss began to stamp the earth. He rolled his heavy shoulders, snorted plumes of steam from his broad nose and curled his tail in the air. He was waiting.
‘He wants to play,’ Dave said with a shrug. ‘Okay.’
Dave picked himself up and brought the rope back to the hump. Then he danced a little on the hump to make sure that Coloss was paying attention.
Coloss lowered his head, making his horns glint in the sun.
‘Right.’ Dave launched himself from the hump as he yelled.
He dipped over the puddle, kicking muddy water at Coloss. The bull grunted and shuffled his hooves in the dirt, as if about to charge that light fence. He didn’t, but he glared darkly as Dave swung up towards the branch.
Mon wiped his hands on his shorts.
He was thinking: It’s going to be my turn. But that’s all right. Coloss is on the other side of the fence. I can forget about Coloss, this is just like making faces at crocodiles in a zoo.
Dave stepped onto the branch, steadied himself and turned. But this time he wasn’t letting the rope go. ‘The fun begins.’
Mon’s arms dropped slowly.
‘Hey,’ Dave yelled. ‘Make Coloss look at you.’
‘What, why …’ Mon was confused.
‘Just sing at him, dance a little bit.’
‘Why?’
‘You’ll see. Just do it.’
Mon shrugged, but he started to dance. Coloss turned his massive head, blinked at Mon and snorted.
At that moment Dave kicked hard at the branch, shaking it as he leaped. He lifted his feet, arched his body.
But there was something wrong.
He was swinging terribly close to the rusted barbs as he swept towards the ground.
Mon stopped dancing, and watched in horror.
Then Coloss heard the branch creaking, and the rope swishing through the air, and he turned back.
Dave kicked his legs over the fence – putting himself on the same side as Coloss. The bull stomped a hoof and lowered his head. Now Dave was hurtling towards the hooked horns.
‘No!’ Mon shrieked. He scooped up a wad of clay from the ground and hurled it at Coloss.
The clay burst on the bull’s broad back. He grunted, turning his head slowly with a faint look of surprise.
Dave stretched a foot to touch one of the bull’s horns as he sailed past. Then he drifted back over the barbed-wire fence and landed on the hump. He grinned at Mon.
‘Olé! Easy as pi,’ Dave said.
Mon was watching Coloss shake his head and glare. He looked very angry.
‘Well, want to have a go?’ Dave passed him the rope.
Mon looked at the rope in his hand and shook his head slowly. ‘Ah, no …’
‘You chicken, or something?’
Mon lifted his head up. Chicken! Like the boys on the pier. His face darkened in anger, but then he saw Coloss steaming at him. He began to nod.
‘There’s no water this time,’ Dave said smiling at him.
Mon looked at Dave.
‘No big drop. Just a flip over the fence, past a dumb cow, back over the fence and up to the branch. Easy.’
Mon watched Coloss tossing his horns, as if he was catching a basketball on each point. A cow! he thought. Like calling a tiger a pussycat. This is crazy. You’d be stupid to do this …
Chicken, he thought.
And suddenly he was leaping at the fence.
‘Hey!’ Dave yelled from behind him.
Coloss jerked his head back. His large brown eyes widened.
What have I done? Mon thought in horror as he looked at the startled bull.
He jerked his feet down and caught the soles of his sandshoes on the barbed wire. He was still hurtling towards the horns of Coloss, but his feet had stopped. Then the wire fired him like an arrow from a bow, shooting him towards the high branches, to Coloss, to the muddy puddle … Finally he crashed down on his back.
But he did not know which side of the fence he was on. Then he could feel the sound of hooves.
Mon jerked his head round. Coloss was trampling slowly towards him with his horns dipping down. For a moment Mon was about to scream in panic, but then his eyes focussed on a blur between himself and the bull. It was the barbed wire. He was still on the safe side of the fence.
‘You’re supposed to wait until I get Coloss looking at me,’ said Dave, standing behind him.
‘Oh.’ Mon moved away from the fence and the bull.
Dave offered a hand. ‘Just as well you accidentally hit the fence.’
‘I didn’t do it by accident … It doesn’t matter.’ Mon took the hand and pulled himself up.
‘Maybe you need more Tarzan training first. Hey? No more bull.’
A smile flicked across Mon’s face. Coloss had stopped at the fence, but Mon could feel his sticky breath.
Dave watched a torn paper bag scud across the paddock behind Coloss and he grinned back. ‘Hey, what are you like climbing trees?’
‘Okay.’ Mon thought: bulls can’t climb trees.
Dave grabbed the rope, climbed the hump and swung past the stamping bull to the branch – this time on the safe side. He tossed the rope back to Mon and began to climb. Mon sailed past Coloss, trying not to look at his angry eyes. He clambered onto the branch, shuffled to the tree’s trunk and then looked back at the bull.
The bull snorted at him and shook his head. Mon sneaked a sudden grin and wobbled his fingers at Coloss before he followed Dave up the trunk.
Immediately he was in dim shadows with creaking branches. He thought: this is like going into a mine; maybe we need a torch. But the fir tree was almost easy to climb, even in the shadows. All he had to do was follow Dave’s feet round and round the trunk, using the branches as steps. He even tried to speed up to catch Dave, but that was like chasing a butterfly. He hauled his way up, while Dave rippled up the tree, hardly touching the branches.
Mon thought: he doesn’t live in a house, he lives here!
As they climbed, the creaking sounds from branches increased, but more light filtered through the thick needles.
Then Mon was pushing through a heaving branch with the sun washing over him.
‘Help, I’m drowning!’ Dave yelled.
Mon squinted against the warm wind, and found Dave’s face in a tossing mass of green needles. He was grinning. ‘Okay,’ Mon said with a shrug.
Dave leaped up from the branches. ‘Isn’t this great?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘It’s not a tree any more. It’s a sea. A stormy sea!’
Mon looked around at the green needles that were thrusting up and crashing d
own in the wind. Needles like waves hissed softly around him, surging towards the distant horizon of the real ocean.
‘Isn’t it?’ Dave was watching Mon’s face with a touch of uncertainty.
Mon slowly nodded, then smiled at him. ‘Yeah, but you have to worry about the icebergs.’
‘And whales!’
‘Terrible whales!’ Mon sagged slowly onto a mass of spreading needles. He felt the needles washing over his legs and arms as the branch moved gently under his back. He looked up into the tumbling clouds and grinned at them. He was thinking: this is how an eagle feels when it is flying across the empty sky.
Dave bounced heavily to Mon. ‘Hey, you can’t sleep round here.’
‘Why not?’ Mon did not want to move. Okay, he was a long way from the ground, but he could not see it. He could only see the clouds and the white crests of the distant waves. Everything was moving on the treetop, but it wasn’t frightening at all. Just so long as he didn’t shift around.
‘Look at it!’ Dave shouted. ‘It’s like a blow-up castle. You can’t just lie about!’ He hurled himself onto a bucking feather-branch and rode it. Reluctantly Mon sat up and his branch swayed wildly under him. He clutched a handful of needles to steady himself.
‘Oh boy.’
‘That’s better,’ Dave called. ‘Now get up.’
‘What? Stand? Up on top of this enormous huge tree? Never.’
‘Oh, come on. You can’t be scared all the time.’
‘I can, too,’ Mon muttered softly. But he lifted himself from the needles, put his feet on a quivering fork and slowly straightened up. He clutched at the wind, he made goldfish faces and his legs trembled from his ankles to his thighs, but he stood on that fork like a candle on a Christmas tree.
Dave grinned at him, ‘See, it’s easy.’
‘It’s not!’ Mon began to lower himself to the security of the needles.
But Dave leapt onto a branch near Mon.
The top of the tree shook with the impact, Mon’s fork lurched and Mon windmilled his arms in a desperate battle to keep his balance.
But he was falling.
Then Mon’s right leg jerked forwards and clouted a cluster of twigs. His left foot kicked at the tapered trunk. And he started to dance from branch to branch as the wind caught him. Finally he spread his legs on two branches and sagged on the whispering needles.
A Taste of Cockroach Page 6