by Derek Reid
“Can you look around please, Roger?” she replied. “And tell me what’s down there.”
“Absolutely nothing here,” he said as he came back out.
Rene brushed the back of his shirt as he brushed the front free of spiders’ webs.
“No, nothing down there. I think it’s a long time since anyone was there.”
“I feel better knowing nothing is going to come up those stairs,” she said.
“I’ll have a cup of tea, gal,” he said, smoothing down his hair after washing his hands under the cold tap.
“Here is the note I found on the mantelpiece,” she said, handing it to him.
Roger slid down the braces of his blue trousers for more comfort as he sat down to study the note from Matty.
“Bless him, Rene,” said Roger, holding the note up. “He wants to get to Africa to find our Reggie. Reggie and I used to fight like cats and dogs, Rene,” said Roger. He sipped the tea she had just made. “Letters and things were always addressed with the initial R.” He sipped further at the tea. “It could be Roger or Reggie.” He stopped for a moment, pausing to gaze out of the kitchen window. “Mum used to call us the two R’s. Anyway,” he said, putting both palms of his hands on the table, standing up and looking squarely into Rene’s face, “let’s get on to find our little Matty. Time is pressing.” Roger moved the kitchen chair back, and pulled up his braces. “Let’s start outside, Rene,” he said as he buttoned up his tunic. “What’s happened to Reggie’s pigeons, Rene?” he said, looking inside the pigeon loft. “There’s food lying on the bottom of the tray.” He pointed to the seed.
Rene thought hard to remember when she had last seen them.
“My mind is blank, Roger. If the pigeons have gone, they’re gone,” she said as she buried her head in her hands to cry.
“I just thought the missing pigeons could have some connection with Matty’s disappearance, Rene,” replied Roger. “We have to go to the police station and report him missing.”
Roger was worried. There was a very concerned look on his face as he held out Rene’s coat ready for her to slip it on.
“I know,” she replied, the strain on her face showing.
“I’ll lock up and clear the table before we go,” said Roger, who by now was beginning to think something terrible had happened.
‘Has the boy drowned? After all, he was always swimming near the old wooden railway bridge,’ he thought. ‘What about the note he left on the mantelpiece? Worst of all,’ Roger thought, ‘has he been murdered?’
“Best if I leave my kitbag here, Rene, until we get back,” he said, placing it in the corner of the kitchen.
Rene closed the back door after having one last look around. With Roger beside her, she walked quickly towards the police station.
Chapter 30 - Back at the Kiln
Back at the kiln I put down the basket which held the cooing pigeons.
“I have some food for you, little birdies.” Bending down, I stroked all four pigeons, one by one. Tonka started to whine a little. “Yes, yes, my beauty, we will feed you first. You have waited a long time.” I took out the cloth holding the food and unrolled it on top of a tea chest. When I held up pieces of the beef, Tonka began jumping up and down. “All gone, Tonka,” I told him. “Only this bone.”
Tonka took it to the far corner of the kiln, his tail wagging enthusiastically.
“What’s in this bundle, Boxer?” I asked as I started to open it.
“I meant to say earlier - I found some ropes to attach the basket to the balloon.”
“Great stuff, Boxer!” I continued to open the bundle. There was a very good assortment of strong ropes, but they weren’t heavy. They were nice and dry, not oily. “Yeah, good stuff you picked up, Boxer.”
“Did I hear you mention food a moment ago?”
“Oh, yes, Boxer - sorry I forgot. It’s on the tea chest,” I said, holding up the rope for close inspection.
We finished the food. Leaning backwards, we laughed aloud as we rotated our hands around our stomachs.
“Yum-yum!” we both echoed.
We made our way to the old wooden hut where the basket for the balloon was stored. Tonka, not wanting to be left behind, followed with the bone still in his mouth.
“We have to get everything ready for tonight, Matty,” said Boxer, whispering. “We have to make ready the basket that will carry us all to the other end of the world.” He chuckled. “And you, Tonka.”
Tonka whined and gave a short bark. The excitement of the whole adventure was so overpowering that we were shaking to the bones.
Chapter 31 - Crossing the River
As darkness fell, we moved quietly across the yard. We pulled the balloon basket over wooden poles we had found earlier and tied them to form a raft. Hauling the basket to the riverbank had been exhausting for both of us. The task now was to get it across the river to where we could see the end of the balloon rope. The moon was full, and all that could be heard was the fast-flowing water and a moorhen scuttling downriver to hide. We had chosen this spot just before a bend in the river because here the water was at its slowest and because our mathematical calculations showed that we would drift down with the current to a spot not far from the balloon. We could hardly climb aboard we were so excited.
The current swiftly took hold of the raft. Fun and laughter soon turned to fear as the raft spun round out of control.
“So much for our mathematics, Matty,” said Boxer with a half-hearted chuckle.
“No - get it right, Boxer - your super calculations.”
By a stroke of luck the raft after all reached the other bank not too far from where we wanted it. Tonka was the first to jump on to the riverbank. He started to bark.
“He thinks we’re playing, Matty,” said Boxer as he followed Tonka on to the bank.
“Shut up! Be quiet!” I shouted with a growl to my voice.
Tonka started to slink away.
“We haven’t much time left, Boxer. Look over there - the sun is coming up.”
“Let’s take a gamble, Matty.”
Totally worn out, Boxer spoke in between short breaths. The pulling and pushing of the raft was taking its toll on him. He stopped pulling and sat down on the bank.
“Let’s cover the basket up, Matty. We can use those branches over there,” he said, pointing to a small spinney.
“I’m not sure I understand you, Boxer,” I said, a bit confused.
“Well,” Boxer stood up and walked towards the small cluster of trees with me and Tonka behind him, “we can hide it here, look.”
I looked at the clearing in the spinney.
“Good spot, Boxer.”
Having covered the balloon basket, we stepped back to admire our work.
“Looks good, Matty,” said Boxer, nodding his head in approval.
“You would never know the basket was there,” I said with a big smile.
Tonka began to dig into the foliage.
“Stop it, Tonka!” I called sharply.
“No,” said Boxer abruptly, “he’s only trying to hide himself, Matty.” He cupped his hand to his ear. “There’s someone coming.”
We climbed into the hole Tonka had made and pulled branches across behind us. We peeped through gaps in the foliage. I held on to Tonka to keep him quiet.
“We won’t be able to go back home now, Boxer,” I said with a half-hearted snivel.
Boxer put his arm around my shoulder.
“We will be able to go back over the river,” he responded; “and, anyway, it’s about time you grew up, Matty. Just think of the wonderful people you’re going to meet on your travels.” He shook my shoulder gently back and forth. “And” - he paused - “most importantly of all, you’re going to find your dad.”
Tonka tried to bark, but I held him
tight. We both knew that whoever was approaching us was close by, and it just might be the Devil Jack!
Both of us shivered with fear.
“Let’s sit here, sweetheart.” The voice sounded like a young man’s - probably someone in his early twenties.
A young girl’s voice replied, “I can’t believe you’re going already, Peter.” The girl started to cry. “When you fly past tomorrow, I won’t look up to the sky.”
We both gathered he must be an airman going back to fly in the war. I moved the branches a wee bit so I could see both of them. The girl had her hand resting on his shoulder. She had a tearful expression. After a while the young couple left with the girl still crying.
“That was close, Matty,” said Boxer as we emerged from inside the basket.
“I know. The girl was crying. I wonder if he will come back from the war. Do you think they might get married, Boxer?”
“I don’t know, Matty. I hope he comes back. Anyway,” said Boxer as he rubbed his hands together. “less whining, more getting on with the job, young Matty. A meeting is needed right now.”
Tonka looked up, ears pricked. He turned his head from left to right.
“Yes,” said Boxer, “and you! Right, gather round, me hearties.”
All three of us sat in a small circle. Tonka looked from me to Boxer then back again. Boxer was just about to make his speech when he spotted a brown parcel on a log.
“Looks like that couple have left something behind,” he said, getting up from the ground and making his way to investigate.
“It might be food,” I said. “I’m starving hungry.”
Tonka and I moved in closer to Boxer as he began undoing the brown parcel. Tonka sniffed the outside. He gave a short bark and wagged his tail with approval. Inside were sandwiches and cakes. On top lay a small red rose.
“Lumme!” said Boxer. “He must love her very much to give her a rose.” He held it to his nostril and slowly breathed in the fragrance. “An expensive one at that!” he said as he passed it to me.
Tonka pushed forward his nose also. Boxer looked at the parcel again with pangs of hunger on his lips.
“Let’s put it in a safe place, Matty.” He began to wrap the parcel up again. “You’re going to need this more than me, Matty,” he said as he climbed into the basket and slid the parcel between the branches of what was now the roof of our hideaway. “That’s for you on your journey tomorrow, Matty. The rose will bring you good luck, I’m sure of that. Let’s make our way to the barrage balloon, Matt.”
“Yes, that’s a good idea; we will have to keep our heads down.”
Tonka bounded ahead of us. To him it was all play.
I picked up on what Boxer had said a few moments ago. He had said, “That’s for you on your journey tomorrow, Matty.” The thought of Boxer not going with me began to prey on my mind. I decided to try not to think about it.
“If we climb a tree, Matty, we can see for a long way.”
Boxer was halfway up an oak tree as he spoke. I followed with excitement. After all, I considered myself a master at climbing. There was not a tree in the village that I hadn’t been up, and some of those were very high.
“Shhh!” whispered Boxer, stopping in his tracks.
He squatted on the floor and tucked his head in behind a hawthorn bush.
“What’s the matter?” I called out quietly, a little frightened.
“Soldiers.” He pointed with his forefinger and I followed its direction. “I can see the end of the balloon rope, Matty,” said Boxer, shaking his fist proudly.
Both of us clambered down the oak tree.
“Let’s get back to our camp,” said Boxer, giving a gentle tug on my jacket.
Once inside, I pulled the branches across to cover up the entrance.
“Tonka is still outside, Boxer,” I called out in a state of panic. I was just about to go out and fetch him.
Boxer grabbed hold of me by my shoulder.
“Wait - there’s someone coming.”
“I thought I saw someone, Sergeant,” said one of the soldiers, pointing in our direction. He sounded as though he was proud of his observation.
“You couldn’t see anyone if they stood in front of you, Private Twist,” the Sergeant responded in a haughty manner. “Twist - that surname suits you.”
Both boys emerged from their camp.
“They’ve gone, Matty,” said Boxer in a relaxed mood.
“That sergeant was a horrible man, Boxer.”
Reaching the wooden fence that enclosed the point where the balloon was tethered, we decided to return to the camp and load the balloon basket.
“How can we get back over the river, Boxer, when the basket is here?” I began to panic.
“No probs, Matty. Leave it to Boxer. He’s got all the answers.” He went and fetched a rope. “Tie this end to the tree, Matty.” Boxer wrapped the other end around his stomach. “I’ll tie this end over there across the river - but don’t panic, OK, mate.”
Everything was loaded. We both knew it was going to be a sad time at the moment of leaving.
“The rest of the Big Five will be devastated you never told them you were leaving, Matty.”
“I know, Boxer. I feel guilty and sick that I didn’t.”
“They’re going to miss Tonka as well.”
“Don’t make me feel worse, Boxer, please.”
“No worries, Matty.” Boxer paused. “Look behind you.”
There they were - all of my friends. I was so happy.
“You thought you had got away, Matty,” said Rocks, “but you let it out at the Roman grave that you were going.”
The boys circled me and shook hands. Little Joe put his arms around me. He had a tear in his eye.
“Please come back safely, Matty. I’m going to miss you and Tonka.”
“Why won’t you come, Boxer?” I was gutted he couldn’t come on my journey to Africa.
“I can’t, Matty - not with my illness.” He coughed violently. “It’s your dad, Matty - find him for us all.”
“When we get back, Tonka and me will take you all for a ride in my balloon.”
“Everything is loaded up,” said Boxer.
All the friends held on to the rope, then let it slip through their fingers one by one. The balloon took to the sky. The friends stood waving goodbye. They looked like the Cocoa Children as they stood waving. Soon Matty and Tonka were a speck in the sky.
It’s been a long time now since Matty and Tonka left to go to Africa. The cage is always left open in case the pigeons come home. Matty’s mum puts down fresh peanuts every day, in hope. Perhaps one day Matty and Tonka will return with Matty’s dad and both will tell us of their adventures Looking for Africa.
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