by Lewis, Gill
Now all I could do was to wait.
Dad came up to my room with my supper.
‘Sorry,’ he said. He placed the plate on the desk beside me. ‘It’s not your fault, you know.’
I sighed. ‘I should have checked on her.’
Dad put his arms around my shoulders. ‘It’s not your fault Iona died.’
I just stared into the deep, deep blue of the computer screen.
CHAPTER 26
Rob and Euan came home with me after school the next day.
‘Have you had any replies?’ said Euan.
I shook my head. ‘No, only two emails which bounced back unable to connect, and another advertising cheap flights and hotels.’
Rob sat down at my desk. ‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘Let’s see if anyone else has replied.’ He switched on my computer.
Euan and I leaned over his shoulder. The computer took an age to warm up.
Rob flicked onto my emails.
Please let there be an email, please, I thought.
Rob pressed the send/receive icon.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen.
Receiving messages
One message received.
From: Jeneba Kah
Sent: 8th October 15:30 GMT
Subject: Hello Callum
Hello Callum.
My name is Jeneba Kah. Doctor Jawara opened your email and asked me to write to you. He said it would be good for my English. I think maybe this is an excuse and Dr Jawara is hoping for a little rest from my questions. Maybe one day I will be a great doctor like him and someone will ask me the questions. But this is good, because I have not had a go on a computer before. I like the photo of your bird.
I am sorry, I have not seen her. I am in hospital and too far from the river. But I have seen birds like her fish in the river near my village. We call them kulanjango. They like to fish when the river tide is far in, or far out. My father is a fisherman and he is always happy to see the kulanjango, or osprey as you call them, come home. They bring him luck to catch many fish. When my father and brother come to visit me tomorrow, I will ask them to search for her.
Scotland is very far away. I have just looked on a map. From Jeneba aged 10
Are you a girl or a boy? I am a girl.
Rob slammed his hands on the desk. ‘Result!’ he shouted.
Euan stared at the screen. ‘You’ve done it,’ he said. ‘You’ve actually done it.’
I couldn’t stop grinning. ‘I can’t believe it,’ I said. ‘There’s really someone out there who can help us. We’ll find Iris now. I know we will.’
‘Write back then,’ said Rob.
‘What, now?’ I said. ‘To her? To Jeneba?’
Rob nodded. ‘Well, who d’you think?’
My hands hovered over the computer keys. I looked up at Euan. ‘What shall I say?’
Euan rolled his eyes. ‘Just say, thanks very much and tell us when you find Iris.’
‘OK,’ I said, ‘OK.’ I took a deep breath, and started typing …
From: Callum
Sent: 8th October 16:43 GMT
Subject: Looking for Iris
Hello Jeneba,
Thanks very much and please tell me if you find Iris.
Callum (boy 11)
‘There,’ I said. ‘it’s a bit short.’
Rob sat back in the chair. ‘It’s fine,’ he said. ‘Just send it off. No good staring at it.’
I pressed the ‘send’ icon and watched the message disappear. ‘All we can do now is wait,’ I said.
I looked for Iris’s position after supper, but she had completely disappeared from the screen.
It’s nearly night-time, I told myself. The solar battery isn’t charged, it can’t give out its signal. But a deeper fear stirred uneasily within me. I had to believe in tomorrow. I had to believe Iris was still alive.
CHAPTER 27
The next day, I woke up with a sore throat. It was a Saturday, cold and grey. Dad had gone off early to market, and Graham was away for the weekend with friends. Mum wrapped me in a duvet and put me in front of the TV. I hardly moved all day except to check my emails.
I had one reply from a birding holiday company who said they didn’t go to that part of The Gambia.
But still nothing from Jeneba.
I watched the hands of the grandfather clock creep slowly round and round. The afternoon light outside faded into darkness. The TV blared on: cartoons, football, quiz programmes and golf. Dad came home with Chinese takeaway and bottles of Coke.
‘Look who’s here,’ said Dad.
Hamish came in and sat next to me on the sofa. ‘I heard about your email,’ he said. ‘It’s amazing. You’ve actually made contact with someone who can look for Iris.’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘Seems like a long shot,’ I said. ‘I haven’t heard back from the Gambian girl today.’
Mum came in with bowls of chicken chowmein and put them on the small table by the TV.
‘You said you’d find a way,’ said Hamish.
‘I’ve left it too late,’ I said.
‘You don’t know that,’ said Dad. ‘You’ve got this far, when everyone else was prepared to give up.’
‘Get that down in writing,’ laughed Mum. ‘Dad never admits to being wrong.’
‘I mean it,’ said Dad. ‘It just shows you, doesn’t it? What you can do when you really want something.’
Hamish nodded and picked up a bowl and a pair of chopsticks. I wasn’t that hungry, so I left them watching a game show and dragged my duvet up the stairs.
I turned on my computer and waited.
It wasn’t until bedtime that another email from Jeneba came through.
From: Jeneba Kah
Sent: 9th October 21:00 GMT
Subject: Looking for Iris
Hello Callum,
No news, I’m sorry.
My father and brother went fishing today and have been looking for Iris. I wish I could have gone with them, but I cannot. An American student doctor called Max went with them. He used his GPS to try and find her. Max said they went to the place where Iris’s last signal came from, but she wasn’t there.
The kulanjango are very important to the fishermen. My father says he will visit the marabout. He is our village wise man. The marabout is blind, but he sees things other people cannot see. Maybe he can help find Iris. My father did not catch any fish today.
I hope to bring you good news tomorrow.
Jeneba.
I phoned Hamish on his mobile. I told him they didn’t find Iris at the place of her last signal and now her signal had disappeared. I could almost hear Hamish’s disappointment on the phone. He said maybe the harness holding the transmitter had broken and come off. They were designed to break eventually. Maybe she was fine and still flying around.
But I knew that she could as easily be in the belly of a crocodile somewhere.
It was now five days since Iris had stopped moving. I couldn’t help thinking something was wrong. If she was alive, she’d be weak with hunger by now. We were running out of time.
CHAPTER 28
From: Jeneba Kah
Sent: 10th October 06.30 GMT
Subject: Looking for Iris
Hello Callum,
I have just seen Max on his ward round this morning. He went with my father and the villagers and visited the marabout last night. The marabout lives in a small hut outside our village between the peanut fields and the mangroves. Max said the marabout burned wet leaves on a small fire and filled his hut with a sweet smoke that smelled of flowers after the rains. He said the marabout spread his arms wide like wings, and called to the bird spirit. The smoke from his fire drifted out from the hut like a great white bird and flew out over the forest. Max said he had never seen anything like it before. I don’t think they have marabouts in America.
Today the marabout is going in my father’s boat to find Iris. He told the people from my village that he has seen this bird in his dr
eams. He says it carries the future of the village on its wings. Everyone from the village is going to look for Iris too.
The marabout is never wrong.
Max is joining them. He is taking his camera to show me the pictures when they return.
Dr Jawara is waiting to use his computer now, so I will write you later with news of Iris.
Your friend,
Jeneba.
I read the email to Mum and Dad on the way to church.
‘Sounds a bit voodoo to me,’ said Dad. ‘You know, I mean witch doctors and that stuff .’
‘Maybe there is a bird spirit,’ I said.
‘It’s a bit far-fetched,’ said Mum.
‘So is church, when you think about it,’ I said. ‘We’re meant to believe in the Holy Spirit and loads of miracles and things.’
‘So you should,’ said Mum.
Dad pulled up opposite the churchyard. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Let’s see what marabout Parsons has got to tell us this week.’
Mum gave Dad a hard stare. I laughed and followed them under the yew and up the path into the little church.
Reverend Parsons gave his sermon from his wooden pulpit. The top was carved into an eagle with outspread wings. Maybe there was a bird spirit. Maybe the marabout could see Iris somehow, and feel her. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine her in the mangrove forest. I thought of the last signal I had written in my diary. I tried to think what could have happened to her, where she could be, right now.
Iris pressed herself against the smooth mangrove bark. The incoming tide swirled around the tangled roots and small fish darted in and out of the shadows. Pain throbbed through her body from the old wound on her foot. It was red and swollen and oozed thick pus and streaks of blood. Six nights had passed since she had caught any fish.
Below, a snake swam through the green waters, its head above the surface trailing a sinuous wake behind. Its tongue flickered in the air, smelling, feeling for prey. It began to slide towards Iris. She flapped hard and lifted up into the warm still air, above the mangroves and green river. The tide rippled in gentle eddies around domed mud banks where crocodiles slumbered in the heat. Insects buzzed in the air and a fisherman drifted slowly in his boat. Only the flicker of fish beneath the water broke the stillness.
Iris dived. She dropped down, wings folded, talons outstretched. The mirrored flat surface rushed to meet her. A flash of silver shot deep, but she struck and her good foot grasped fish.
She beat upwards from the river, up into a black shadow of killing talons and beak.
Iris twisted away. The fish-eagle banked, close on her tail, chasing her across open water. She could hear the whistle of its wings and the downward rush of air. She let the fish fall. The eagle grasped it in its talons and soared on with its stolen catch.
Iris flew back into the mangroves to an old dead tree on the banks of a creek. Her body ached, and fever sapped her strength. She pushed herself through rotting bark into the hollowed trunk, and leaned against the cool damp wood. She closed her eyes, and fell through endless darkness, deeper and deeper into a dreamless and fevered sleep.
CHAPTER 29
I couldn’t concentrate on anything all day. I’d checked on my emails after church, but there was nothing. There was still no signal from Iris either.
‘You need to get some fresh air,’ said Mum. ‘It’ll make your sore throat better.’
‘You can bring in the sheep from the bottom field,’ said Dad. ‘I need to check on those lame ones again.’
I unclipped Kip, our young sheep dog. He was a bit fresh and keen when Dad first got him. Some friends with young children had visited once, and Kip had rounded them all up into one of the barns. But he mostly rounded up the sheep now, or the chickens to get them in the chicken shed.
Kip and I headed down the valley towards the village. The ground was boggy underfoot. Deep tyre tracks had ground into the mud in the gateways. I splashed through the puddles, the water almost coming over the top of my boots.
Kip was already ahead of me racing towards the sheep at the far end of the field. Dad usually took him out with Elsie the old dog so he could learn from her. I whistled to Kip but the wind was against me. He raced in too fast and the sheep scattered. Then he didn’t know which way to run. I whistled again and this time he heard. I sent him around the back of the sheep and made him lie down. The sheep calmed and bunched themselves together again. Then I whistled for him to bring them on slowly. He was good at it too, going one way then the other, moving them forward. He trotted swiftly, his belly low. His eyes never left the sheep. Dad said that it was an old hunting instinct of wolves that had been bred into Border collies. It always amazed me to think of behaviour so hardwired into their system that it was actually part of them, inseparable. Like the ospreys and their migration. It made me think what could be buried deep inside me.
I let Kip drive the sheep past me and away up the hill to the farmyard. A cold wind blew in my face all the way back. The clouds were low and grey, trailing wisps across the tops of the hills. Dad and Graham were waiting for the sheep in the yard. I chained Kip back into his kennel and added more straw and a handful of dog biscuits and sneaked back into the kitchen.
‘I’ve made tablet,’ said Mum.
The sweet crumbly fudge was my favourite. I grabbed a few pieces and headed up to my bedroom.
This morning I’d believed that the marabout would find Iris. But now it did seem a bit far-fetched. Mum was probably right. How could they possibly find her in miles and miles of mangrove forest? She could be anywhere.
I switched on my computer to look at my emails.
There was another one from Jeneba, with an attachment.
I hardly dared open it. If it was bad news, it would be too hard to take.
I clicked on the email. There was no message, just one attachment.
I held my breath.
And opened it.
Iris was staring right at me from the screen with her brilliant yellow eyes. A large pair of dark brown hands was folded round her body. Her feathers were tatty and dull, and one leg hung limply beneath her. But it was definitely Iris.
She was alive.
CHAPTER 30
‘Amazing,’ said Euan. ‘To think they’ve actually found ‘ her.’ He sat down at my computer after school the next day to look at the photograph of Iris.
‘You’ve got another email,’ said Rob, ‘and another picture.’
From: Jeneba Kah
Sent: 11th October 15.30 GMT
Subject: Iris
Hello Callum,
I hope you got the photo yesterday. Max took it with his camera. It made the computer crash when I tried to send it and Dr Jawara was not very happy. But Max has fixed the computer and I am allowed to use it again.
Yesterday was an exciting day. All the villagers went out on boats with my father and the marabout. I wish I could have been there too. Max showed me the photos. He said it was like a big party. The marabout told them to look in dense forest and rotting trees. He said she was not far from the place my father and Max were looking yesterday.
Everyone was looking for Iris all afternoon. My brother found her in a hollow rotten tree.
The fishermen caught a lot of fish yesterday. Iris has brought them good luck.
Max is looking after Iris in a shed next to his apartment. She is very weak. He has been feeding her mashed fish through a tube into her stomach because she is too sick to feed herself. There is an old cut on her foot which has become infected so Max is giving her antibiotics.
Max wanted to bring Iris into the ward to show me, but Mama Binta got real cross at him. She said she didn’t want no ‘fishing chicken’ in her ward. All birds are chickens to Mama Binta. Last week three goats got into the hospital and chewed up some blankets. Mama Binta got so mad with those old goats I think she almost put them in the stew pot.
Mama Binta is the head nurse here. She sees everything. If things aren’t clean and spotless, she is like a cro
codile with a sore tooth. Even the doctors are afraid of her.
She says I make a nuisance of myself asking all my questions and keeping the other children in the ward awake. That’s why she carries me to Doctor Jawara’s office to write to you.
I can hear Mama Binta coming to fetch me, so I must go now. I have attached another photo that Max has taken.
I will write you when I can about Iris.
Your friend, Jeneba.
I clicked on the attachment, wanting to see Iris again, as if I needed more proof she was alive. But it wasn’t Iris. It was a photo of a girl with dark brown skin and one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen.
It was Jeneba.
‘That’s really her?’ said Euan pushing Rob’s head out of the way.
‘I guess so,’ I said.
We all stared at the photo. Jeneba was sitting up in a hospital bed with two huge plaster casts around her legs. Another child, much younger, was asleep beside her in the same bed. The bed looked old, like something out of an antique shop. Red rust showed through the white blistered paint. In the background was a large nurse dressed in blue uniform leaning over another bed. Three small children lay in that bed. One boy looked so small, so skinny. He was attached to a big bag of clear liquid above his head by a long plastic tube that went into his arm. He looked fast asleep, dead almost. Beyond the rows of beds was an open door leading into bright sunlight.
‘Bit crowded in there,’ said Rob. ‘Don’t they have enough beds?’