by Perrin Briar
“One wall,” she said. “Three more to go.”
“Five more, technically,” Bill said. “You’re forgetting the roof and floor.”
“After twenty years, this will be the first house we own without a mortgage,” Liz said.
Bill smiled.
“Not too bad, is it?” he said.
“Not too bad at all,” Liz said.
Bill’s smile faded, and his eyes moved to the side. He frowned.
“Excuse me,” he said. “There’s, uh, something I need to check on.”
Bill descended the ladder and rounded the treehouse. The goats in their pen ambled over to see what was up. Bill counted the tally marks on the tree trunk they kept as a reminder of their incarceration on the island. By counting the days they could work out the date.
“September fourth,” Bill said. “September fifth… September…”
His eyes widened.
“It’s our anniversary in four days…” he said.
The eldest goat mehed with a big smug smile on her face.
Chapter Fifty-Two
BILL HAMMERED the thorns into the wood. He sat his tool down on a branch and pulled the beams of wood together, straightening them. He held them together with one hand and reached for the hammer with the other. His hand found empty air. He peered over but couldn’t locate it. He looked down at the clearing floor. It wasn’t there either.
“Jack?” Bill said. “Is that you playing around?”
Jack poked his head up from under the floor Bill was assembling.
“What was that?” he said.
“My hammer,” Bill said. “Did you take it?”
“No, why?” Jack said.
“I just put it down and now it’s gone,” Bill said. “Did Nips take it?”
“No, he’s been with me the whole time.” Jack’s eyes widened. “Dad, look out!”
Bill instinctively ducked his head. Something fell, not more than a couple of inches from Bill’s shoulder, and struck the ground, breaking the stone it smacked into.
Bill looked up. A long-tailed squirrel monkey grinned and clucked its tongue at Bill, whooping like it had committed the best practical joke in history.
“Think it’s funny, do you?” Bill said.
The squirrel monkey nodded its head as if it understood, performing a funky little dance, and then hung by one hand from a tree limb. Jack handed the hammer up to Bill.
“Bloody monkeys,” Bill said. He looked up at the squirrel monkey. “You’re lucky we’re related.”
Bill held the beams of wood together and reached for the thorns he kept in a leaf pouch at his side. But the pouch was no longer there. He frowned, and then looked up at the monkey. It held the pouch in one hand and fished out a thorn. It bit the thorn, and shrieked with pain.
“Serves you right,” Bill said.
The squirrel monkey turned the pouch upside down, letting them spill over the ground.
“Cheeky little fellow isn’t he?” Jack said.
“Yes,” Bill said. “Reminds me of a cheeky little monkey I know.”
Bill waved at the squirrel monkey to scram. It waved back, hooting at Bill, before taking off into the trees.
“Father,” Fritz said. “We’ve got a problem. One of the pulleys has got tangled up in the tree leaves.”
Bill peered up. A vine was wrapped around a high bough of the tree, the panel twisted in mid-air.
“I could climb up there and work it free,” Jack said.
“It must be sixty feet up,” Bill said.
Jack shrugged.
“No taller than the clock tower in Chucerne,” he said.
“You climbed the clock tower?” Bill said.
Jack’s eyes moved to the side.
“Uh…” he said.
Bill turned to Liz, who smiled around her bamboo cup of water. Bill pursed his lips.
“All right,” he said.
Jack blinked in surprise.
“All right?” he said.
“Go ahead,” Bill said. “If you think you can do it.”
Jack beamed and dropped his share of the vines. He ran at the tree, Nips perched on his shoulder, coiled up like a spring, and as Jack reached the wide bark of the tree, Nips sprung three feet up the tree, tiny claws finding invisible crevices.
Jack was not much slower as he pulled himself up. Bill was reminded of a spider climbing a wall with no more difficulty than if it was walking along the ground, as if the rules of gravity didn’t apply to it.
Bill’s palms grew sweaty. Ernest, Fritz, Liz and Francis all watched Jack with equal awe. Jack got halfway up before he slowed down and carefully assessed his situation. He jumped and his foot caught a small ledge Bill could hardly make out. It snapped beneath Jack’s weight, but his hands had found a branch, and he pulled himself up onto it.
Out the corner of his eye Bill could see Liz’s hands covering her face in fear, but to her credit she didn’t make a sound.
Jack walked across the narrow branch with his arms out to the side, Nips just ahead of him, performing the same routine. Then Nips hopped down, caught the branch, and swung underhand. Bill’s heart beat like a drum.
The branch began to dip under Jack’s weight. Jack didn’t seem concerned. He knelt down and pulled the pulley free of the ensnared leaves. Jack stood up, bracing himself on a neighbouring tree’s branch and kicked at the pulley. The vines attached to Lightfoot tightened as the pulley came free.
“All right!” Jack said. “It’s free!”
“That has got to be the most awesome thing I have ever seen,” Fritz said.
“Ditto,” Ernest said, slack-jawed.
“Don’t tell Jack I said that,” Fritz said.
“Only if you don’t tell him I agreed with you,” Ernest said.
Jack descended the tree just as easily as he had ascended it and re-joined them, none the worse for wear. Fritz and Ernest looked at Jack with newfound respect.
“Saw your little slip there with the snapped foothold,” Fritz said.
Bill smiled and shook his head. Liz grinned at him.
Chapter Fifty-Three
BILL STOOD on a make-shift ladder and guided the final panel into place. Jack, on the roof, removed the vines.
“All right,” he said, “take it up.”
Liz joined Bill in the treehouse, complete with four walls, roof and floor.
“Wow,” she said. “It’s big.”
“It needs to be,” Bill said.
“It was hard to imagine when it was just the floor,” Liz said. “It’s really coming together now.”
“Yeah,” Bill said. “Won’t be long before we move in.”
Liz wrapped her arms around Bill, who smiled and then looked out a porthole window at the sun hovering low in the sky. He broke from Liz.
“I’ve got to be somewhere,” Bill said.
“You’ve ‘been somewhere’ three nights in a row,” Liz said. “Should I be worried?”
“Only if I come back with lipstick on my collar,” Bill said.
He kissed Liz on the forehead and left. Liz frowned and bit her lip. She approached Fritz, Ernest, Jack and Francis, who were all crowded around something on the other side of the clearing. When Jack saw her, Fritz and Ernest rushed over to her, standing shoulder to shoulder as if they were hiding something.
“What are you up to?” Liz said.
“Nothing,” Fritz and Ernest said at the same time. They shared a glance.
It was suspicious, but Liz decided not to pry.
“It’s your father and my anniversary tomorrow,” Liz said. “Can you drop a not-so-subtle hint reminding him?”
“I think you’ve done enough of that yourself already,” Ernest said.
“I don’t think you need to warn him,” Fritz said with a smile.
“What do you mean?” Liz said.
“Oh no,” Fritz said. “I’m not telling you anything.”
“He’s been working on something for me?” Liz said. “Fritz, tell
me. This is important.”
Fritz’s smile faded as he realised she was being serious.
“Yes,” he said. “He’s been working on something. But I can’t tell you anything more except that you’re going to like it.”
“Okay,” Liz said.
Her frown relaxed, but her face was still lined with concern.
Chapter Fifty-Four
BILL AND LIZ sanded down the table top using the bark from an unknown tree, leaving it smooth to the touch. It was unrecognisable as the table Fritz had brought off The Red Flag. The scorched emblem on the underside had been removed. It sat in the middle of the tree house, the centrepiece to the whole home.
The kitchen tops were equally well-sanded. Cutlery, plates, and kitchen utensils all had a home, and now so did the Flowers.
Outside, pots bubbled and popped, filling the treehouse with the aroma of boiling vegetables. Over another fire was the roasting carcass of a small pig Ernest’s traps had ensnared.
A cool breeze blew through the open door and out through the large window on the other side. The goats made soft mehing noises – of satisfaction, Liz thought. She knew how they felt.
“You’ve done a great job here, Bill,” Liz said.
Bill looked around at the treehouse and smiled humbly.
“It’s not too bad, is it,” he said.
“Thank you,” Liz said.
“Don’t thank me,” Bill said. “We all pitched in. It wouldn’t have been possible if we hadn’t all worked together.”
“You were the mastermind,” Liz said.
Bill snorted.
“Some mastermind,” he said. “Nailing a few pieces of wood together.”
Liz laid her hand on the wispy golden hairs on his forearm.
“Really, Bill,” she said. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome,” Bill said.
“We’d better get washed up for dinner,” Liz said.
Bill glanced out the door. The boys were busy with something across the way.
“Are you sure?” Bill said, wrapping his arms around Liz’s waist. “We have a few minutes…”
“You’re an animal,” Liz said.
“No wonder you find me irresistible,” Bill said. He kissed Liz on the nape of the neck. “I promise to be gentle.”
“Maybe for dessert,” Liz said.
“I’ll make sure to save room,” Bill said.
The pots bubbled and the fat from the meat dripped into the fire with a hiss.
“It’s done,” Liz said. “Boys, dinner’s ready.”
They came walking over. They were arranged in a line, hands behind their backs.
“Before we eat, we’ve got something to show you,” Jack said.
Ernest jabbed Jack in the ribs.
“Don’t spoil the surprise!” he said.
“I’m not!” Jack said. “I wasn’t going to tell them we made a-”
Ernest jabbed Jack in the ribs again.
“What’s all this about?” Bill said.
“We made something for you, for the treehouse,” Jack said. “And for your anniversary tomorrow. Kind of an all-in-one gift.”
“A small piece of home,” Fritz said.
The boys turned and revealed a large handsome flat slice of tree trunk. In it was carved the outline of Switzerland, and inside that, the outline of the island. Written across the middle in a flowing font was ‘Falcon’s Nest’.
“That’s beautiful!” Liz said. “My beautiful little boys. It must have taken ages!”
She kissed each of them on the cheek.
“Thank you so much!” she said. “We’ll put it up outside the treehouse.”
Bill ran his finger along the indentations.
“I wondered where my chisel went,” he said. “I thought the monkeys had taken it. You’ve all done a wonderful job. Just the finishing touch we need. Let’s lean it against the treehouse, see how it looks, shall we?”
Bill took it from them and leaned it to the right of the ladder.
“Fantastic,” he said, appraising it.
The boys fell into their seats at the dining table. The boys salivated, watching with relish as Liz put the plates and bowls of food in the centre. Bill poured a little of the potato-based alcohol beverage he’d made into each of their cups.
“Bill, not Jack and Francis!” Liz said.
“Just half a mouthful,” Bill said.
Bill picked up his goblet – silver and encrusted with jewels and a vicious-looking skull. Fritz looked at it.
“Why do I feel like we’re about to carry out a blood ritual?” he said.
“I quite like it,” Bill said, taking a swig from it. “As I’m sure you boys know, it’s been six months since we came to this island. It’s been a struggle, but we’ve finally made it. We belong to this island now, and it to us. We no longer have to struggle. There are things we may not experience again for a while, but now, at least, we can survive in moderate comfort.”
He raised his goblet.
“A toast,” he said. “To your mother for this delicious meal we’re about to receive, and to all of you for all your hard work and dedication. It hasn’t been easy, I know. But now, finally, we might be able to live in peace.”
They all took a swig and dug into the meal.
“Don’t eat too much,” Liz said. “I made some fruit pies for dessert.”
“But you can have any other dessert you’re hungry for too,” Bill said.
Bill and Liz shared a look. Liz flushed.
“We’ve explored most of the island now,” Fritz said. “We just have the farthest corner to check out. It’ll take us a couple of hours to get there, look around, and then another couple of hours to come back. I thought we’d go after dinner, let you two be alone for your anniversary.”
“That’s kind of you,” Bill said. “But don’t get into any trouble.”
“Don’t worry,” Fritz said, rolling his eyes. “We won’t.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
NO MATTER how many times Fritz wandered through the jungle he could never figure out precisely where he was. Jack would climb a tree and reveal their location, and it was always thirty minutes east or west of the location he had in his mind. It was as if the island shifted while they weren’t looking.
In his mind he grouped the island into sections. There was the swampland in the north, the river that bisected the island in half from the north to the south coast, and the mountain to the southeast. Now they were heading to the last blank space on the map – in the northwest.
“Fruit doesn’t move,” Fritz said. “It takes skill to bring down an animal.”
“Have you ever seen Nips picking a fruit?” Jack said. “He checks them so he only takes the ripest one. That’s more skilful than a lot of the shoppers in the supermarkets back home. And fruit is better for you.”
“You’re a fool if you think that,” Fritz said. “It’s packed full of sugar.”
“Delicious sugar,” Jack said. “Meat just has fat. Yuck.”
“I’ll remember that the next time Beauty catches a duck,” Fritz said.
Jack screwed up his face.
“Then I won’t give you any of the fruit Nips finds!” he said.
Fritz reached up and plucked an apple from a tree.
“Oh, you mean this fruit?” he said, taking a bite from it.
“Calm down you two,” Ernest said. “A human diet requires nutrients from all the major food groups. Meat is no good without fruits and vegetables, as fruit and veg is not a complete meal without meat. It’s basic nutrition.”
Fritz and Jack pursed their lips and looked at one another.
“So anyway,” Jack said, “fruit, and therefore Nips, is better.”
“Meat, and therefore Beauty is better,” Fritz said.
Ernest sighed.
“This is why I don’t have pets,” he said.
“My Nips is better than your Beauty!” Jack said.
“Let’s let them go and see who
brings back the most animals,” Fritz said.
“That’s not fair!” Jack said. “Nips doesn’t eat meat!”
Fritz shrugged.
“Then you lose,” he said.
“I don’t lose!” Jack said. “Nips could win if he wanted!”
“Prove it,” Fritz said.
“Fine, I will,” Jack said, his bottom lip stiff with indignation.
“On the count of three,” Fritz said, releasing Beauty’s strap. “Beauty. One, two, three!”
Fritz raised his arm and Beauty took to the sky with a screech.
“Nips,” Jack said. “Animals! Kill! Rabbit! Kill!”
Nips stared at Jack, tilting his head to the side in his failure to comprehend.
“Living thing,” Jack said, pointing to a flower. He savaged it. “Kill! Kill!”
Nips reached over for a flower and bit it, a timid ravaging.
“No,” Jack said. “An animal! Go! Kill!”
Beauty screeched high overhead and swung in to land on Fritz’s gloved hand. She had a small rat in her outstretched claw. Fritz took it and hung it from his belt.
“Let this be a lesson to you,” Fritz said. “A bird of prey is a bird of prey, a monkey a monkey. You can’t change something’s nature. They are what they are. Play to their strengths. Nips could have won if it had been about gathering fruit, or being stupid.”
“Nips isn’t stupid!” Jack said. “Take it back!”
“You’re right,” Fritz said. “I take it back. It’s not his fault. It’s just something he picked up from somewhere. I can’t for the life of me think where.”
Jack leapt and plucked an apple from a tree branch. He drew his arm back and threw it. It smacked the back of Fritz’s head.
“Uh-oh,” Ernest said. “Now you’ve done it. You know how precious Fritz is with his hair.”
Fritz spun around.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Jack said, covering his head with his arms and running away.
“Come back here you little snot!” Fritz said, giving chase.
Jack ran a dozen yards before he looked back and realised Fritz was gaining on him. He was never going to be able to outrun him. He turned and climbed the nearest tree trunk he came to.