by Nadia Aguiar
‘Stop what?’ asked Penny.
‘You know what,’ said Jebby.
‘I feel like it,’ said Penny.
‘Just because you feel like something doesn’t mean we do,’ said Jebby. ‘Knock it off.’
‘Don’t speak for me,’ said Tabba.
In her exhaustion, Penny’s distress and rage spilled over and poured back into the source of all her troubles.
‘I hate Kal,’ she fumed.
‘We know, we know, you hate Kal,’ said Jebby. ‘How many more times are you going to tell us? Anyway, it’s Bellamy’s bike that’s gone.’
‘It’s just a thing; it’s not the same as the Bloom,’ said Penny. ‘You don’t care as much as I do because it’s not your grandmother who needs the Bloom.’
‘All of Kana needs it!’ cried Jebby. ‘You know, everything isn’t just about you getting the Bloom. Even with me and Tabba, you act like you’re the only one in this competition. Without us you would never have got this far! You wouldn’t have known what to get for the first trial, or where Molmers were, or anything!’
Jebby’s outburst had surprised Penny, but she was feeling too angry and reckless to back down.
‘And you wouldn’t even be in the competition if it weren’t for me!’ she said.
They stopped in the middle of the road and scowled at each other.
‘You know what the funny thing is?’ said Jebby. ‘You’re just like Kal! The only thing you care about is the Bloom!’
‘Come on, you guys,’ said Tabba. ‘Everyone’s tired and upset – let it go.’
Penny began tapping her fingernail on the tooth again, louder this time.
‘If you don’t stop, I’m going to take it from you and throw it into the jungle,’ said Jebby.
‘Hah,’ said Penny.
‘I could in about five seconds,’ said Jebby. ‘You’re not as tough as you want everyone to think you are.’
Penny tapped the shark’s tooth as hard as she could.
‘That’s it!’ cried Jebby, striding back to Penny to take the necklace. ‘I’ve had enough!’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ shouted Penny, stopping and closing her fist over the shark’s tooth. ‘This is Helix’s necklace!’
‘Helix, Helix, Helix,’ said Jebby. ‘I’m sick of hearing about him. If he was so great maybe he’d be here to help us! He’s not here. You have no idea if you’ll ever see him again.’ He glared at Penny. ‘And you don’t know if the Bloom even works on the Outside!’
Penny froze. ‘Of course it works,’ she said.
‘Jebby!’ said Tabba sharply. ‘That’s just mean. Penny, calm down and stop provoking him. I don’t feel like listening to this the rest of the way to Santori!’
‘Whose side are you on, anyway?’ Jebby asked.
‘The three of us are on the same side!’ shouted Tabba.
Jebby glowered at his sister then back at Penny.
Penny felt hot and dizzy. A paste of dust from the road clung to her sweaty skin. The wings of insects shimmered in the bright air and everything began to feel very unreal. What was happening? How had a small disagreement escalated to this?
Tabba sighed and began to walk away up the road. ‘I’ve had enough of both of you,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘I’ll see you in Santori. Or not!’
‘Fine!’ shouted Penny. ‘Fine! I don’t need you, anyway. Let’s just split up now!’ She started walking down the road after Tabba.
‘That’s just great,’ said Jebby. ‘Stomp off when you don’t get your own way!’
Penny was stomping, banging her heels down hard with each step, her backpack bouncing against her back. Then Jebby overtook her and quickly overtook Tabba, too.
Jebby was in the lead, then Tabba, then Penny, all on the same road because it was the only way to get to Santori, but with distance between each of them.
Penny didn’t make it much further before her shoulders began to shake. She stubbed her toe on a sharp rock and she felt the warm trickle of blood. She trudged along for a few more steps but then walked off to the shoulder of the road and collapsed in the grass. She could see Tabba and Jebby up ahead, but if they had looked back – which they didn’t – they couldn’t have seen her in the tall grass, so she let herself weep freely, hot, frustrated, regretful tears.
It was all over; she knew it. This was the first time on their trip that they had argued, truly argued. And it wasn’t just an argument – it was an argument that meant the end of everything. Just yesterday they had been speeding along in the bicycle and cart, hopeful and happy and full of energy on the way to find a Molmer egg. The Bloom that would save Granny Pearl was out there, awaiting them. Everything had been going so well. Now, in an instant, it was ruined. Penny was alone all over again, just like at home. She had been so lonely before meeting Tabba and Jebby – she’d forgotten how good it was to be with other people, and now she’d messed everything up by being stubborn and selfish and difficult. And Jebby had been so mean to her! She felt miserable. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and sky and earth ran together in a swimmy smudge.
Suddenly, and with her whole heart, all she wanted was to be at home, a breeze wafting through the orange grove, gently swaying the Pamela Jane on her mooring, Granny Pearl on the porch in her rocking chair, its blades squeaking softly as she waited for Penny to come home from school. Then the whole horrible reason she was there in the first place rushed back to her. Without the Bloom, there was no home to return to – no home where everything was the way it used to be, where she was safe and happy and loved, where Granny Pearl had always been and always would be. The Bloom was the only thing that had the power to make Granny Pearl better, to restore life to the way Penny needed it to be.
Penny had always been determined. If she wanted to run faster than a boy at school and steal the soccer ball from him, she did. If she wanted to get the highest mark on a maths test, she would study furiously for the week before and she would come in top of the class, even if her grades were poor the rest of the time. If she wanted to stick her head in the tank at the aquarium to see Oscar, or root through Maya’s old belongings, or take the rowing-boat out by herself, no matter how many times her mother and father told her not to, she was still going to do it. That’s how she was. Stubborn and determined. But now she couldn’t make Jebby stop being angry with her, and she couldn’t get the Bloom.
And she couldn’t erase the terrible thought he had put in her mind: what if the Bloom didn’t work on the Outside, if outside Tamarind it lost its power?
Then nothing – truly nothing – could help Granny Pearl.
Seagrape sat on a nearby stump watching her. Penny thought she looked reproachful and disapproving of this display of self-pity. The sight of her made Penny think of Helix. Jebby was wrong about him. He had to be. Helix was part of her family. Even if they hadn’t seen him in a very long time, even if Penny no longer knew where he was, or anything about his life. He was part of them, nothing could change that. She would see him again, she was sure of it. She took a deep, shivery breath and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Everything felt hollow and unreal, but she no longer felt despair. She could still find Helix.
She looked up the road where she could still see Tabba and Jebby, walking away without her. Regret filled her. The late afternoon sun reflected off the suspension of red dirt particles in the air and orange haze hugged the ground where they had stepped. Jebby had taken out the bird whistle and was running through different calls on it: single notes and nimble arpeggios. A hot breeze stirred from the opposite direction, carrying on it the musical jangle of the bicycle parts swaying into each other in the trees in the distance. Suddenly the birds that had been chirping and twittering in the jungle all along sounded crisper and clearer to Penny. She listened as pitches changed, new melodies began on the heels of old, and calls crossed each other in the air. The sounds fused with the clanging of metal and Jebby’s whistle into a motley composition expanded into the air all around her. She closed her
eyes and listened.
‘PENNY! JEBBY!’
Penny’s reverie was pierced. Tabba was shouting, and Penny looked up to see her waving furiously. Jebby stopped and began walking reluctantly back towards his sister.
Curiosity more powerful than pride, Penny took a shuddery breath and wiped the back of her hand, dirty and bug-bitten, over her eyes and got to her feet. On the road she broke into a jog and reached Tabba just as Jebby did.
Tabba was waiting, arm thrust out, palm opened to reveal a shiny shell the size of a button.
‘Jebby,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe we didn’t think of it!’
‘Think of what?’ asked Jebby warily. ‘What are you talking about?’
Penny came closer to see the shiny object, some type of quartz, that Tabba held in her palm.
‘I saw a bird drop it from its beak,’ said Tabba, unable to stop smiling, her eyes shining.
‘So?’ said Jebby.
‘A bird was taking it back for its nest …’ said Tabba.
Jebby looked at his sister as if she might have been out in the sun too long.
‘Sometimes birds pick up strange things for their nests,’ continued Tabba. ‘And there’s one bird in particular, who … Jebby, haven’t you guessed it by now?’
‘Tabba!’ said Jebby, exasperated. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about. Just say whatever you’re trying to say!’
‘A bowerbird,’ she whispered.
For a moment Jebby was silent.
‘A bowerbird!’ he said slowly. ‘Tabba – that’s brilliant!’
‘What about a bowerbird?’ asked Penny.
‘We heard one earlier today, remember?’ said Jebby. ‘Why didn’t I think of it then?’ He groaned. ‘We’ve wasted all this time and come all this way for nothing. We could have found a bowerbird a mile out of Jaipa and been in Santori hours ago!’ He began blowing a series of long and short notes on the whistle, searching for the right sequence.
‘Please someone tell me what’s going on!’ Penny cried, bouncing on her toes in frustration.
‘Male bowerbirds build nests on the ground in the jungle – more like little stick huts,’ said Tabba, turning excitedly to Penny. ‘But what makes them so unusual is that they collect objects – usually pretty, shiny things, and they group them together in piles around their huts to attract a mate. The rarer the objects, the better. They’ll have a heap of purple flowers here, a pile of red berries there, shells, coins – anything that catches their eye … even brightly coloured beetles! We’ve seen a nest once before – Da found one in the hills outside Tontap and took us to see it. There’s a really good chance that if we find a bowerbird nest we can find a Zamzee among the beetles the bird has collected!’
Penny’s heart soared. ‘We’re not out of the competition yet!’ she cried. ‘We still have a chance!’
Penny and Jebby forgot why they had been so angry and upset just a short time ago. They looked at each other sheepishly.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Penny. ‘And I really am sorry about Bellamy’s bike. I feel terrible about it.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jebby. ‘I didn’t mean what I said about the Bloom, that it can’t help your grandmother. I don’t know that. I don’t know what the Bloom can do. I’ve never seen it before either.’
‘What Jebby meant earlier is that we don’t know for sure the Bloom will help,’ said Tabba delicately.
‘But why would everyone want it unless it could do amazing things?’ said Jebby. ‘Why would there even be a Bloom competition? We have to try – let’s keep going.’
Penny thought for a moment she might cry again, this time with relief. All was forgiven, and the Bloom was still within reach.
‘Now we just have to find a bowerbird,’ said Tabba. ‘Let’s go back to where we heard one earlier!’
The children set off at a fast clip down the road, retracing their steps. Suddenly their muscles were no longer weary, their feet no longer sore. Hope and a new plan of action had revived them. Seagrape flew ahead, soaring and swooping as though she was refreshed, too. Jebby began to blow different notes with his whistle.
‘I’m sure you know it,’ said Tabba confidently. ‘It’s in there somewhere. Maybe just don’t think too hard and it will come to you. Maybe it’s a bit like this?’ she said, beginning to hum a tune.
‘Stop,’ said Jebby. ‘It’s just muddling me.’
Obligingly, Penny and Tabba fell quiet as Jebby searched for the notes. Frowning, he ran through a range of calls, a confusing avian babble that drew curious birds to the trees on either side of the road. He tried a cluster of high notes, a lilting alto phrase, a sharp peal. He paused. Then he tried two short bursts followed by a low, warbling hum. He repeated it a few times and smiled. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘I’ve got it.’
This time they didn’t see any Bloom Players as they skirted Hopper. Everyone else must have already figured out what to do and was probably already speeding back to Santori. The awareness of time squandered raised a sour taste in Penny’s throat – if they were too late, she didn’t know what she’d do.
At last Jebby stopped.
‘This was where I heard it earlier,’ he said. ‘But the nest won’t be near the road, where people could disturb it. We’ll have to go into the jungle a bit.’
The girls followed Jebby, stepping gingerly over sticks that would snap, mindful not to stir any branches or disturb the creatures that lived there. Jebby repeated the tune on the whistle, stopping every now and then, ear to the jungle. Penny listened, too, but she couldn’t distinguish one call from another amidst the ebb and flow of chirping that filled the air all around them.
Finally Jebby turned back to the girls, smiling. He blew the whistle again, and this time there was a response, a rich, rococo tune inviting them deeper into the jungle. The children kept going, following the call, which grew louder the closer they got. Two short bursts followed by a low, rumbling warble. Through the undergrowth they could see they were approaching a small clearing. Jebby was in front, and he stopped when he reached the edge. Penny stopped behind him. Peering over his shoulder through the undergrowth, she first thought she was looking over a sort of junkyard piled with strange, half-camouflaged objects. But, when Jebby pulled the last of the foliage away and stepped aside to make room for her, she quickly realized that she wasn’t looking upon anything haphazard. Instead she was peering at an elaborate miniature kingdom, surprising and strange and wonderful.
‘It’s not a nest,’ she whispered. ‘It’s a palace!’
In the middle of the clearing, a tower of open-windowed rooms constructed from twigs stood eight feet high – the bower. Its roof was steeply pitched, its walls woven with grasses. A small dark doorway was centred in the front of it. It was not any kind of nest Penny had ever seen.
On the ground all around it lavish heaps of wampum were artfully arranged. Shiny baubles, grouped by colour and texture, overflowed in bright piles: minty-green seeds, silver berries, nuts of different shapes and sizes. Feathers with false eyes were staked like sentries in deep cushions of moss. Shoals of bleached seashells stood on either side of a path leading up to the bower door. Penny noticed that each floor of the bower was devoted to a different collection of treasures: vermillion leaves, electric-blue quills, smooth grey bones, sea-smoothed pebbles, tiny white stars of flowers, coloured threads and buttons poached from human clothing, tiny cracked eggshells blue as the sky. Leafy curtains rippled from some of the windows of the tower.
The architect, a young male bowerbird, larger than a seagull, smaller than a peacock, watched the children from the corner of his eye as he kept working. He cracked a violet seed with his beak and painted a smooth white stone with the purple dye, dabbing on spots of colour with each tap of his beak.
Seagrape waddled over to steal a juicy red berry that had caught her eye, and the bowerbird dropped his seed and shrilled anxiously.
‘Seagrape!’ whispered Penny sharply. ‘It’s not yours.’
As she was scolding the parrot, Penny’s eyes fell on it.
Near the open doorway of the bower was a circle of tiny orange beetles, and in the middle of them reposed the crown jewel. A single Zamzee beetle. In the low light it gleamed like a polished shell in a shallow riverbed. It had been a risk that, even if the children found a bowerbird, there would not be a Zamzee there, and Penny felt flush with gratitude that it had been so simple.
She held Seagrape back while Jebby went to retrieve it. The bowerbird squawked and fluttered its wings and spun in agitated circles.
‘We’re sorry,’ Tabba whispered. ‘We’re just going to take this one thing.’
Jebby returned, tilting the beetle gently in his palm so Penny and Tabba could see it.
To be sure it was the right one, Penny compared it nervously to the sketch she had made back in the last town. It was the same – the size of a cowrie shell, V-shaped horns, deep turquoise wing case, the fake orange eye spots.
Tabba gathered sphagnum moss and wrapped the beetle in it gently and Penny placed it carefully in her backpack.
‘Come on,’ said Tabba. ‘Let’s not disturb him any more.’
Penny took a last look at the bowerbird’s palace in the drizzle of diffused light. She plucked one of Seagrape’s feathers and laid the offering gently on the outskirts of the bowerbird’s garden.
‘Shhh,’ she whispered when Seagrape growled reproachfully. ‘It’s just one feather.’
The children tiptoed away, leaving the secret bower once again camouflaged by the thick undergrowth.
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Like glowing reptilian eyes’ ✵ Dust ✵ Santori ✵ Strange Netherworld ✵ A Single Green Feather
Penny, Tabba and Jebby hurried as fast as they could the whole way to Santori. They ran for short stretches, fell back to walking, caught their breath, then broke back into a jog. Their legs burned. The closer they got, the more nervous Penny grew. Surely other Players had already made it there with beetles. They began to see more whorls, small ones like they had seen earlier, but in the fading light they took on a strange, lurking menace, like glowing reptilian eyes watching the children as they hurried along the darkening road.