by Perrin Briar
He took some short canes from off the table. Each was of a similar length but had an image of a different animal etched on the bottom. Bill held them out, keeping the images covered with his hands. Liz chose first, then Jack, Ernest, Francis and Fritz. Bill kept hold of the remaining cane.
“Yes!” Liz said, holding her sugarcane up triumphantly.
“Who did you get?” Bill said.
“Lightning!” Liz said, turning to the zebra. “How about you?”
Bill looked at his own sugarcane. It had the image of a goat on it.
“Not bad,” Bill said.
“Oh, man!” Jack said. “Herdy’s never going to win this race!”
Herdy the hippo flapped her ears like she was trying to fly.
“You never know,” Bill said.
“I do,” Jack said. “She’s never going to win!”
Ernest looked with apprehension at Valiant the bull.
“At least you know you’re going to get to the end of the race in one piece,” he said to Jack. “Valiant is just as likely to toss me aside as carry me.”
“I’ve got Clementine,” Francis said, brushing the feathers of the ostrich.
“She’s a strong contender,” Bill said. “Just make sure to hang on. She might be a bit hard to control.”
Francis touched the flesh of Clementine’s neck. She gweked.
“I think we’ll be all right,” Francis said.
The boys stroked their animals and kept them calm, whispering words of support in their ears. Clementine the ostrich pecked at Francis’s hair, apparently finding something delicious there.
Ernest approached Valiant, who snorted, his nostrils opening wide. He turned away.
“This hardly seems fair,” Ernest said. “Francis. Would you be up for a swap?”
“Maybe,” Francis said. “What are you going to give me?”
“Isn’t Valiant enough?” Ernest said.
“No,” Francis said.
“Come on, look at him!” Ernest said. “He’s big and strong.”
“Nah,” Francis said.
“I thought you loved him?” Ernest said.
“I do, but I ride him a lot,” Francis said. “It’ll be good to try something else for a change.”
“All right,” Ernest said with a sigh. “What do you want?”
“If you win, I want half of the fruit pie,” Francis said.
“What?” Ernest said. “You must be having a laugh!”
Francis shrugged.
“No deal, then,” he said, climbing onto the back of Clementine, tucking his feet under her wings.
Ernest approached Valiant, who waved his head side to side in a menacing display. Ernest’s insides turned to water.
“All right!” Ernest said. “Half the pie if I win.”
“Done,” Francis said.
“I certainly have been,” Ernest grumbled.
Fritz climbed up onto Lightfoot’s back. The donkey swished his tail against offending flies.
“Swap with me,” Jack said to Fritz.
“Lightfoot in exchange for Herdy?” Fritz said. “Don’t make me laugh!”
“Herdy’s got a superpower,” Jack said.
“Oh yeah?” Fritz said. “What’s that? The ability to move slower than any other creature here?”
“No,” Jack said, thrusting his chin out. “She can swim through water.”
“So can Lightfoot,” Fritz said, riding him to the start line.
“Herdy can do it faster!” Jack said.
“As ninety-nine percent of this course is on land I don’t think that’s going to help much,” Fritz said. “Sorry, Jack. You drew the short sugarcane this time.”
Jack turned to Bill and Liz and opened his mouth.
“Don’t even try,” Liz said.
“But-” Jack said.
“You’ll just have to try your hardest,” Bill said.
Francis approached Valiant the bull. Valiant nodded his head and snorted through his nostrils in excitement. He bent down low and raised his leg so Francis could climb more easily onto the saddle on his broad back. Francis patted the beast on the top of the head. Valiant raised and lowered his head in obvious contentment.
Ernest grumbled under his breath and checked Clementine’s harness, who pecked at the top of Ernest’s head. He protected himself with his hands. Then Clementine pecked at his fingers.
“Everyone to the start line!” Bill said.
They each got on their animals and headed to the start – an invisible line between two posts. They put their sugarcanes to their lips, sucked the sweet liquid inside, and tossed them aside.
“Liz, will you do the honours?” Bill said from his chariot tethered to four goats.
“Certainly,” Liz said.
She rode Lightning to the start line. Everyone tensed, preparing for a quick start.
“Ready,” she said. “Steady…”
Lightning leapt forward and raced across the start line.
“Go!” Liz said.
“Cheater!” Ernest said, but Liz didn’t stop.
The others took off, in Liz’s dust. The ground dropped under them, down at a sharp angle. Lightning and the other hoofed animals barely altered their speed as they ran down the incline, gaining speed and zipping along the hard-packed earth. Clementine was slower, taking her time down the flint rock, her wide feet not well-suited to the slippery flint.
Bill snapped his reins, overtaking Liz on his goats, who were built for such terrains. The incline flattened out and the goats pulled ahead, heading toward Family Bridge that crossed the white water rapids of the river below. Bill took careful aim and slowed down to cross it, the wheels rumbling over the wood.
Then it was Liz’s turn. Lightning’s hooves clip-clopped across the bridge’s surface. Then Fritz crossed on Lightfoot, then Francis on Valiant, the bridge creaking and flexing under the bull’s weight, then Ernest, and finally Jack, on Herdy the hippo who was good neither on the steep incline nor the flat of the bridge.
“Come on!” Jack shouted to Herdy to coax more speed out of her. “Go!”
Once Ernest crossed the bridge he saw the whole Robinson family, save Jack, spread out before him. Ernest clucked his tongue and leaned forward. Clementine stretched out her legs, extending her loping strides. Once she got into a rhythm it didn’t feel like she was even really trying, using the bounce and momentum to push her through into the next stride. Before Ernest knew it they had caught up with the other riders.
First Ernest came to Francis. The bull was quick, but his sheer weight and bulk was too much for him to move very fast. Ernest powered past him and was rewarded with a frown on Francis’s face. The straight continued on for some way, the sea washing against the shore to their left.
Fritz stuck close to the edge of the sea, on the wet sand. Ernest realised the wisdom of this as it provided an easier path for the animal. Ernest pulled Clementine in behind Fritz and felt the immediate impact of entering his slipstream. Clementine ran even faster, and Ernest pulled her out to run alongside Fritz, who was using his rocking bodyweight to force Lightfoot the donkey on as fast as he could. Fritz scowled as Ernest pulled ahead into third place.
Bill and Liz were battling for first place, each edging forward ahead of the other. Bill was in front, and then Liz, and then Bill again. They snapped their reins to coax more speed out of their animals, but they appeared to be equally weighted.
Wet sand splattered up Ernest’s front. Clementine gweked, insulted. Ernest pulled her to one side, out of the slipstream offered by Lightning, forfeiting it in exchange for a better chance of staying clean and keeping Clementine happy. She was travelling at about the same speed as Lightning, who, true to his name, kept up the punishing speed.
Then Ernest drew up alongside Lightning. Liz lay crouched down over her mane, the hair tickling her face, mimicking the low position the zebra had as she ran. Ernest ducked his head down as low as he could, the wind pushing his hair back from his face, drying the swe
at that accumulated in the humid heat.
Thankfully Clementine was faster than either the goats or Lightning, and she raised her head up high in the cumbersome ostrich style and powered past them, having to make a short diversion onto the dry sand in the process.
“Wooohooo!” Ernest said, raising his arms up in the air as he took first place.
The beach rounded to the right, and they approached the west coast. Ahead, the beach pinched into a narrow lane. The sea washed in and almost touched a small tree with half a dozen coloured flags hanging from its branches like ripe fruit. Without even breaking stride, Ernest reached up and grabbed a yellow flag, tucking it into his pocket.
Bill did likewise, snapping a purple flag off the tree. Liz grabbed a pink one. The green flag had become dislodged and lay half covered in the sand. Fritz lowered himself in his saddle, scooping it up mid-stride, and righted himself. Francis and Jack were still halfway back down the straight.
Clementine gweked with excitement, relishing the feeling of stretching out her legs. Ernest pulled back on the reins, slowing Clementine down for fear of her overexerting herself. There was still a long way to go and he had best not exhaust the ostrich’s stamina.
“No!”
Ernest peered back over his shoulder. Bill’s chariot pulled toward the verge. He tugged on the reins, but the goats kept veering to the side. Ernest could see the reason for their distraction: the wet, succulent green tufts of the jungle. Bill lost his battle with the goats altogether. They pulled over and lowered their heads, chomping on the grass. Bill screamed and shouted at the goats to no effect. The goats happily chomped away.
All the way down the west coast Ernest pulled away from the rest of the family, gaining a healthy lead. It was only Liz on Lightning who managed to keep up with him, but even she had fallen behind until she was only a blot on the landscape.
Ernest and Clementine rounded the northwest corner of the island, a protrusion into the dark navy sea. Liz and the rest of the family disappeared from view. The world had turned silent and, it seemed to Ernest, less jovial.
The path now split in two: one wound right, diverging into the jungle, leading through swampland. It was shorter than the second route but would require a lot more energy to traverse. Clementine was not made for such terrain. Ernest played it safe and headed down the longer left-hand road that followed the shore. Let the others take unnecessary risks, Ernest thought. With a decent lead he could afford to take his time.
Clementine flew over the sand, her long legs making it look easy. Ernest rolled his neck, making it pop. He was sat perched on Clementine in a most uncomfortable position, as ostriches weren’t made to be ridden by humans, especially for long periods of time. Ernest estimated they were halfway through the course. He was confident he could maintain his lead until the end.
Then the path made a turn, a kink in its route that led back into the jungle a short distance. The canopy overhead dropped down low, providing shade, the branches interwoven like an old man’s arthritic fingers. It was nice, reminding Ernest of another time, a time when short Sunday drives in the country were common, and he and his family would stop off somewhere, get ice cream, and walk amongst the trees and woodland. Flags were attached to the underside of the copse. He reached up and took the yellow flag down, tucking it into his pocket.
For a moment Ernest considered taking the other flags down and tossing them aside, but he doubted it was worth the time he’d spend in carrying out such a tactic, and didn’t even know if the other family members would even be heading in this direction.
A branch came out of nowhere. Ernest barely managed to duck before it sailed overhead. Clementine lowered her head as another branch swiped at her. The overhead branches became thicker and pressed lower. Clementine gweked and lowered her head, parallel to the ground, slowing to a walk.
Ernest had forgotten how low the trees were along this part of the track. He checked over his shoulder but saw no sign of the others, unless they had taken the other route and were now powering ahead of him. His stomach twisted at the thought.
Ernest leaned forward in his saddle, shifting aside to see the canopy roof didn’t get any lower, but that it carried on at least until the end of the current path. He turned to look back, and found he was still alone on the route.
He climbed off Clementine, held her reins with one hand, and led her under the canopy. She stayed in the centre of the path, head bowed down low, her giant eyes peering at the greenery around them. Occasionally she paused, surveyed her surroundings, and then carried on.
Then the ground began to rumble.
Clementine gweked, her eyes shifting from one wall of green to another, pulling against her reins, looking for what was causing this disturbing behaviour.
“Out of the way!” a voice shouted.
Ernest spun around to find Valiant bearing down on him. He let go of Clementine’s harness and threw himself aside. Valiant’s horns caught in the low canopy, but tore through it, the branches snapping beneath his awesome strength, tearing through it like it were tissue paper.
Ernest sat up, watching as Francis’s back disappeared around a corner. Ernest ran to Clementine, who had run to the other side of the path, and seized her harness. She tried to run, jerking Ernest forward, but he dug in his heels and skidded along the path.
“Clementine!” Ernest said. “Clementine, stop!”
Gwek!
“Stop!” Ernest said, and now that the rumbling had dissipated, Clementine calmed down, still wary and peering around at the foliage around them. “Calm down, girl. We’re going to catch up with them and get through this.”
Ernest climbed onto Clementine’s back and took her through the trail of destruction left by Francis and his runaway bull. Valiant had scythed a path through the low canopy, which Ernest was more than willing to take advantage of.
Clementine ran hard, sensing the end of the low ceilinged jungle, and when it finally came, she raised her head up high like an Olympic athlete finishing a race. She picked up the pace and powered along the track, the final corner of the island up ahead. Ernest pulled up alongside Francis, who held onto the rolls of fat at the back of Valiant’s neck, bouncing up and down, barely making contact with the saddle.
“Hi Ernest!” Francis said.
“Have you seen any of the others?” Ernest said.
“No,” Francis said. “I thought they were ahead of us?”
“It’s really not fair that you’re riding a pair of horns with legs,” Ernest said.
“You’re just a sore loser,” Francis said.
“You haven’t won yet,” Ernest said.
“No, but I will!” Francis said.
“Pride before the fall,” Ernest said.
“What?” Francis said.
“Never mind,” Ernest said.
“Bet you regret swapping with me now!” Francis said.
“Not really,” Ernest said. “I don’t really enjoy the taste of dust.”
“What?” Francis said.
Ernest burst forward, Clementine’s large feet kicking up a cloud of dust into Francis’s face.
“See you at the finish line!” Ernest said.
Ernest leaned in low and turned Clementine off the beach path and across a short stretch of marshland. Clementine sped up and leapt over a fallen tree trunk, and then cut across the corner of the beach. When Ernest pulled back onto the wet sand where Clementine could run at full speed, he looked back and saw that Francis had only just rounded the corner, having been unable to jump, nor punch through, the log.
“Haha!” Ernest said.
“Hello there!” a voice from a tree called.
Jack swung through the trees on vines, leaping from branch to branch with ease. He stopped on a trunk, whispered something to Nips, and waited. Nips climbed down from the tree, ran along a fallen tree trunk and picked up Jack’s flag. Then he began to make his way back.
“That has got to be against the rules,” Ernest shouted to Jack.
“Where’s Herdy?” Ernest said.
“She found a pool of water and wouldn’t get out of it!” Jack said.
“What happened to loyalty?” Ernest said.
“It’s in a dirty puddle about twenty minutes back,” Jack said. “Ta-ra! See you at the finish line!”
Clementine continued to run, and within minutes Ernest saw a pair of figures ahead, on the track that ran parallel to his own. Bill and Liz had taken the short route. Their path joined up with Ernest’s about two hundred yards down.
Ernest didn’t know what had happened for Bill to now be in the lead, but Liz had a halo of shrubbery around her temples and a look of pure murder on her face. A thick white froth covered Lightning’s neck and haunches. Horses were known to run themselves to death. Ernest wasn’t sure if the same was true of zebras.
The thought of losing made Ernest push Clementine harder, rocking back and forth like a world class jockey, driving the ostrich to take longer strides that ate the road before them. She raised her neck up to its full height, her powerful legs pushing them down the path.
The two roads converged a dozen yards ahead, and unless Ernest had missed his guess, he and Liz were on a collision course the moment the two paths became one. Liz had to pull onto Ernest’s path like a slip road onto a motorway. Ernest pushed Clementine hard, refusing to yield to Liz.
Liz turned her head at the last moment, surprise registering on her face. She hadn’t noticed him there before. But she didn’t slow down either. She pushed Lightning harder.
The two animals bumped against one another, mostly due to Ernest’s own attempt to knock Liz off course. Clementine was ahead of Lightning by a beak. Lightning grunted with the effort, legs pumping as hard as they could.
“Don’t push Lightning so hard!” Ernest said.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Liz said.
“Lightning isn’t going to make it!” Ernest said.
Liz looked down at the froth spreading across the zebra’s back.
“She can take it,” Liz said.
“I hope so,” Ernest said, and he stood up in his stirrups and rocked Clementine’s bodyweight into Lightning. The bump knocked Lightning off her stride, losing her rhythm.