Mister Cassowary Page 9

  I squirmed out of Dad’s arms. ‘But why are you scared of them?’ I asked, staring where I thought Dad’s face was. ‘Is it because Big Blue killed Grandad?’ I blurted.

  Dad pulled me back towards him. ‘I’ve been silly thinking you were too young to hear the truth. After what I saw today, I’d say you’re old enough now. And I’d prefer you heard it from me rather than try to piece together all those rumours.’

  A fresh burst of rain drummed the roof and I strained my ears to hear Dad’s words.

  ‘I was in my final year of school and home by myself, as usual,’ he said. ‘Grandad was off at his latest planting project, and Grandma had long since passed away. I thought I’d surprise Grandad by cleaning up after the harvest, like what you were doing with me the other day – picking up blue plastic, tidying the place. So, there I was all on my own, only just turned seventeen, when Big Blue rocks up out of nowhere. He must have seen the plastic and thought I had food. He wanted to see what I had in my hand and, when I tried to pull it away, he went ballistic. And then … well, he went for me.’

  I’d always wondered about Dad’s scar. It was an ugly pinched line running right under his ribs. ‘One of the workers found me and took me to the hospital. Ten stitches later, I was fine, but Grandad wasn’t having a bar of it. He didn’t believe a word I said.’

  ‘He didn’t?’

  ‘No. He said I shouldn’t have provoked Big Blue, or some rubbish. We argued, and I told Grandad how much I hated his obsession with cassowaries. How it was his fault the farm was going downhill, and how he shouldn’t spend every last cent on those birds …’

  I shifted my shoulders under Dad’s arms.

  ‘But he didn’t listen,’ continued Dad. ‘So, as soon as I got my high-school certificate, I left. I worked my way down to Brisbane and, three years later, I met your mum.’

  ‘And you never saw Grandad Barney again?’

  ‘No. He visited us a few times in Brisbane. Even met you. Fond of you, he was. But it was too difficult. I couldn’t forgive him for choosing Big Blue over me, and I didn’t make an effort. We didn’t see him for years. In the end, this place proved too much for him on his own. He had money troubles and heart troubles, and then, one day …’

  ‘One day … Big Blue attacked him?’

  Dad coughed. ‘No. While doing one of their patrols, Cathy and her team of rangers found Grandad Barney lying on the rainforest floor. It looked like he was sleeping – except he was face down in the mud and had a nasty gash across his eye. It’d been a stinker of a day, over 38 degrees and, apparently, he’d been out planting more wretched trees. He’d had a heart attack.’

  ‘But Abby said … Wasn’t it Big Blue?’

  ‘No, mate. It wasn’t Big Blue. When the press found out there was a man dead in the rainforest, they had a field day. There’d been a few attacks about town around that time, and the papers loved it. Splashed all sorts of gory headlines over the news, and it caused quite a sensation in a sleepy town like Mission Beach. But I didn’t care. Dad was dead. Nothing would bring him back. Plus, why would I care what people said about Big Blue? I hated that ugly bird.’

  ‘But now everybody thinks cassowaries are killers and the most dangerous birds in the world.’

  ‘They are killers, Flynn. When they’re frightened, or looking after their young, they do what all animals do. They protect themselves. But in my mind, I suppose, it was the cassowaries that killed Grandad Barney. It was because of them that he and I fought, and it was because of them that I left the farm for him to manage on his own.’ He sighed. ‘I didn’t correct the papers because, in a way, they were right. The cassowaries did kill Grandad Barney. But for a different reason than they thought.’

  I snuggled deeper into Dad’s arms. ‘I’m sorry you and Grandad didn’t get along. But don’t you think he would want everyone to know the truth? So that people don’t blame the cassowaries?’

  ‘But what can we do, Flynn?’ said Dad softly. ‘There’s nothing we can do.’

  ‘What would Grandad want us to do?’

  Dad shrugged. ‘I don’t know, Flynn. I just don’t know.’

  Outside, the cyclone was still raging. The wind howled and the rain lashed the house. But inside, Dad’s breathing became steady and reassuring. I leaned my head against his shoulders, my eyes growing heavy as I breathed in his familiar smell. All that time I’d worried about Grandad Barney being killed by a cassowary, for nothing. I wished Dad had just told me the truth from the start.

  The next morning, it was strangely quiet in the bathroom. Dad was gone, and the bathroom door was open. There was no creaking roof, and no blasting wind. Finally the cyclone was over.

  ‘Peanut?’ I whispered, creeping down to the kitchen. ‘Peanut, are you here?’

  Dad was looking out the back door, but he swung around when he heard me. ‘Good morning, sleepy head,’ he said. ‘How are you this morning? One heck of a night, wasn’t it?’

  I yawned and rubbed my eyes. ‘Have you seen Peanut?’ I asked.

  Dad came over to give me a hug. ‘No, not yet. I was just checking out the damage. Doesn’t look too bad out there, to be honest. Not after all that racket last night.’ He held me at arm’s length. ‘I’m so glad you’re here with me,’ he said, looking at me kindly. ‘Shall we go check the house for your chick? I’m sure the little critter’s here somewhere.’

  My grin was so wide it hurt my cheeks. ‘Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dad.’

  We found Peanut jabbing at the cane rubbish basket in Grandad Barney’s bedroom. He looked up, like he’d been sprung. I couldn’t help but grin even wider.

  Peanut pecked my toes and then Dad’s. When Dad snatched his foot away, Peanut jumped and perched on the edge of the basket. But the basket tipped over with his weight and landed like a trap door over his whole body.

  Dad and I laughed.

  ‘See, he won’t hurt us,’ I said. ‘He’s cute.’

  ‘He is pretty funny,’ admitted Dad. ‘Not cute, but funny.’

  I bent down and scooped Peanut up. ‘He needs our help. Can we call Cathy and tell her?’ I asked. ‘Or Walter?’ After hearing Dad’s story about Big Blue, I finally realised I couldn’t care for my hide-and-seek chicks. If their dad really was lost, it was time to have them cared for properly.

  Dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He pressed the power button and then gave it a shake. ‘We could,’ he said, ‘except my phone’s dead. We’ll have to walk into town if we want to make any calls. Which reminds me, Mum will be worried sick. We should ring her first.’

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said, putting Peanut back down on the floor. ‘But before we do, I have to tell you something.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Dad, scratching his stubbly chin.

  ‘There’s another one. I called him Jumble. He and Peanut go everywhere together, but I couldn’t find him last night, and with all that wind, and the rain and …’ A giant lump blocked my throat. ‘He could be dead by now.’

  Dad brushed a stray lock of hair from my forehead. ‘It’s okay, Flynn,’ he said. ‘I’m sure he’s out there somewhere. How about we walk into town and tell Walter what’s happened? He and Cathy will sort it out. They’re the experts on stuff like this. They do it every day.’

  ‘But … how will we get to town?’ I stuttered. ‘Won’t all the roads be dangerous?’

  Dad smiled. ‘Good point. They just said on the radio that the cyclone was only a category 1, though, so the damage won’t be too bad.’

  I nodded. ‘Can we bring Peanut with us?’ I begged. I couldn’t risk losing another cassowary.

  Branches and leaves covered the road on the walk into town. Wild waves lashed the rocks, and the tide was at the very top of the beach. The Welcome to Mission Beach sign lay twisted and buckled, and a caravan had tipped over onto its side. The supermarket and ice-cream shop were shut.


  Rain cascaded down the glass of the public phone box as Dad and I squashed ourselves inside it, with the extra feathery lump under my rain jacket snuggled up warmly against my stomach.

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘Flynn! Are you and Dad okay? I’ve been so worried! I’ve been watching the news. I know it wasn’t the biggest of the big, but still …’

  ‘We’re fine, Mum. You should have heard the wind. It was like a train.’

  ‘And the house?’

  ‘The house is okay. Some of the banana plants are wrecked, but Dad said it wasn’t too bad, as far as cyclones go.’

  ‘And Dad?’

  I covered the receiver and glanced at Dad. ‘She wants to know if you’re okay,’ I whispered.

  Dad raised his eyebrows and smiled.

  ‘Dad’s fine,’ I said. ‘He told me what happened. You know, to Grandad Barney?’

  ‘What’s that noise? It sounds like a chicken.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ I pushed Peanut’s head back down into my jacket. ‘It’s a long story, and I have to go. We’re in town. We’re going to find Walter. But Dad wants to speak to you first. Bye.’

  ‘Bye, honey.’

  I ducked under the chord and passed the phone to Dad. Peanut was chirping and wriggling, so I unzipped my jacket to let him breathe more easily. His claws scratched my belly as he tried to get comfortable. Riding shotgun in someone’s rain jacket wasn’t a natural position for a cassowary chick.

  *

  ‘Glad you guys are okay,’ said Walter when Dad and I found him inside the Visitor Information Centre. He and Abby were helping to organise volunteers to clean up the town.

  Abby’s pink raincoat hood was pulled firmly round her face. ‘Hey,’ she said, glancing at the bulge in my chest.

  ‘Hey,’ I said back. ‘Is the rehab centre okay? Did any cassowaries escape?’

  Dad winced, like talking about escaping cassowaries was the same as having green ants bite you all over. But he listened for Walter’s answer just as eagerly as me.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ said Walter ‘Your mate Big Blue’s had a good feed and is as happy as Larry there this morning.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ said Dad, releasing the tension in his jaw. ‘Don’t really want him on the loose again.’

  People in rain jackets and gumboots streamed in and out of the centre. They carried buckets and ladders and sheets of tarpaulin.

  ‘Flynn, do you have something you want to tell Walter?’ said Dad.

  My pulse took off like a space shuttle. It was now or never. ‘Walter?’

  ‘Yes, kiddo?’

  I pulled open my raincoat and Peanut’s yellow head popped out.

  ‘Peep. Peep. Peep,’ he chirped, his little beak gulping fresh air.

  Walter’s blue eyes crinkled. ‘Well, well, well,’ he marvelled. ‘We finally get a squiz at your treasure!’ He winked at Abby, whose face immediately flushed. ‘Didn’t I tell you?’ he said. ‘Flynn’s another Mister Cassowary! Where’d you find this little beauty?’

  ‘In the swamp, before the cyclone,’ I said, glaring at Abby. ‘There’s actually two of them, but I could only find one. And I don’t even know if the other one’s still there …’

  ‘I already told Pop there were two,’ said Abby.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. Obviously.

  ‘And Pop said you’d bring them in,’ she added. ‘And he was right. You did.’

  ‘Well, only one of them,’ I said, my voice trembling. ‘I don’t know if Jumble made it.’

  ‘No worries,’ said Walter, easing Peanut from my hands. ‘Leave it to me. We’ll get Cathy out to your grandad’s place this afternoon and she’ll find the little guy for you, quick as a flash. No Dad I gather?’

  I shook my head. ‘I think … well, I’m not sure, but I think he might have been hit.’

  Dad stared at me, his lips silently repeating ‘hit’. ‘You mean by a car? Oh!’ He reached an arm around my shoulders. ‘That’s why you’ve been so caught up about the chicks? Oh, Flynn. I’m sorry. I should have realised.’

  I scuffed my shoe against the concrete floor. ‘It’s okay, Dad. It’s only a theory but …’

  Abby’s eyes flicked between me and Dad. I’d have to tell her about Grandad Barney, but not now.

  Meanwhile Dad was turning back to Walter. ‘Before we go,’ said Dad. ‘I was wondering—’

  ‘Listen, Steve, can I get back to you? Right now …’ Walter nodded towards the line of volunteers. ‘I think they’re keen to get started.’

  ‘Oh yes, I’m sorry. Of course. We can help, can’t we, Flynn?’ said Dad, rubbing his hands together. ‘No job’s too big or small for us.’ We looked at each other and smiled. ‘We’re quite a team these days, aren’t we, Flynn?’

  Dad and I hadn’t been home for long when Cathy’s ute drove up behind Walter’s rattling LandCruiser. Both Walter and Cathy wore protective pads on their bodies, like they had at the rehab centre to capture Big Blue.

  I had to swallow hard to make myself brave.

  Abby’s pink ribbon bounced as she hopped out of the LandCruiser and did a fancy ballet leap over the giant puddle in Grandad Barneys’ driveway. She stood beside Dad and me, as we watched Cathy pull out a metal box from her ute.

  ‘Peanut’s in there already,’ explained Abby, pointing to the box. ‘So he and Jumble can go to the rehab centre together.’

  ‘That’s if they find Jumble,’ I murmured. My stomach clenched. If they didn’t, it would be all my fault. I should have told everyone earlier.

  Dad rested a hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Hey, Mister Cassowary,’ said Walter, winking at me. ‘Best to get it over with, don’t you think? Where did you say you found these chicks?’

  My chest tightened. ‘Over there, near the swamp,’ I said, pointing to the rainforest trees. ‘Well, they were there. Before the cyclone.’

  The words Danger, Keep out painted on the side of the metal box made my stomach swirl. ‘You’re not using that tranquiliser gun thing, are you?’

  Walter smiled. ‘No, we don’t use that on chicks. They’re usually easier to catch than the adults, and anyway, it’s not good for the very young ones.’

  Walter took the net Cathy offered him, and together they strode towards the rainforest. A truckload of branches had fallen in the cyclone, and now they lay in a tangle between us and the swamp. Jumble would be so frightened in there all by himself.

  Dad squeezed me. I dipped my head and tried breathing through my mouth. It didn’t help. My lip quivered.

  ‘It’s okay, mate,’ said Dad. ‘Even if they don’t find Jumble, at least Peanut’s safe.’

  ‘I told you to tell the rangers,’ hissed Abby. ‘If you’d listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened.’

  Hot tears welled in my eyes.

  Dad shot Abby a look then turned back to me. ‘What’s Jumble like?’ he asked.

  I sniffed. ‘Well, he’s smaller than Peanut, and he’s shy. And he likes sultanas and apple, cut up really small.’

  ‘Flynn!’ whispered Abby. ‘You weren’t supposed to feed them.’

  Dad glared at her again, and drew me in towards him. Abby shrugged and threw herself into a handstand. She walked five steps before collapsing over into a backbend.

  ‘It’s okay, Flynn,’ said Dad. ‘They’ll find him.’

  But they hadn’t found the chicks’ dad.

  ‘Any gossip about the cyclone?’ Dad asked Abby. ‘No crocs on the loose this time?’

  I knew he was trying to make the waiting easier, but all I could do was watch for Walter and Cathy.

  ‘Well,’ said Abby, walking like a crab upside down in her backbend. ‘Did you hear about the man who found a bottle washed up onshore just near the main beach? It had a note in it, from 1918. Pretty awesome, hey?’

  �
��Peep.’

  I looked up. Did I really hear that sound? Walter appeared from the trees, his shirt and long pants dripping wet as he marched towards us.

  ‘Peep. Peep. Peep.’

  Cathy was running behind him and, as she did, a yellowy orange head peeked out from behind Walter’s back. It was Jumble!

  ‘It’s pretty wet back there,’ said Walter when they reached us. ‘He’s lucky he made it.’

  He opened the lid of the box.

  My chest heaved. ‘Can I say one last goodbye?’ I asked.

  Cathy tucked Jumble’s legs in before carefully passing him over to me.

  Jumble wriggled against me. He was heavy and soggy. It took two hands to stop him from falling.

  ‘See you, buddy,’ I murmured, resting my cheek against his fluffy head. I gently kissed his soft feathers before reaching down to place him next to Peanut.

  ‘Hey!’ yelled Abby, interrupting my goodbyes. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘What’s what?’ asked Walter.

  ‘That! That thing! Moving. Over there.’ Abby pointed towards the front gate.

  I swung around too quickly and lost my balance. I dropped Jumble on the grass.

  ‘Oh no!’ I reached to catch him, but he took off so quickly with his neck pushed out and his feet flying behind him, that I couldn’t reach him.

  ‘Peep. Peep. Peep,’ he called.

  Before we knew what was happening, Peanut leapt out of the box and took off after Jumble. Abby and I rushed after them, in hot pursuit.

  We skidded to a stop when we came to the end of the driveway.

  An adult cassowary stood in front of us. His head was bent forwards to gently nudge Peanut and Jumble with his beak. He made a deep womp, womp, womp sound, like the lowest note on a didgeridoo. His right leg was swollen and he walked with a slight limp, but otherwise he seemed fine.

  Cathy, Dad and Walter ran up behind us. ‘Stay very still,’ warned Cathy.

  Walter shook his head in disbelief. ‘Would you take a look at that?’ he said. ‘The whole family’s reunited.’