Chloe's River Rescue

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Chloe's River Rescue Page 2

by Samantha Turnbull


  ‘It’s mine,’ Grace tells them, laying her surfboard on the grass next to the van. ‘It’s a proper retro one.’

  One of the girls starts laughing and the other kids copy her. ‘You think you can ride a fish?’ she asks. ‘You might want to try your luck on a foamie out here, little girl.’

  The group laughs again and jogs off.

  ‘What were they talking about?’ Emily asks. ‘What’s a foamie?’

  ‘A board made from foam.’ Grace grimaces as she slaps a bug on her neck, but I think she’s more irritated by the surfer kids. ‘It’s what beginners start out on. My fish is foam covered in fibreglass – it’s the next step up.’

  ‘Don’t listen to them, Grace,’ I say. ‘I’ve seen you ride this thing.’

  ‘Who cares what they think?’ Mum says, looking up from unloading the suitcases. ‘They’re just bored locals looking for trouble. You’ve got nothing to prove to them.’

  Grace picks up her board. ‘You’re right, Mrs Karalis. That “little girl” stuff just irks me because I doubt they’d say that to one of my brothers.’

  I feel angry for Grace. It’s outrageous that some strangers think it’s okay to pick on someone without knowing anything about them.

  In all the years I’ve been coming to The Palms I’ve never had a run-in with any of the kids who live here. Come to think of it, we’ve never really spoken. When they’re not surfing, they tend to just hang around the slushy machine at the general store.

  Maybe Mum’s wrong. Maybe we do have something to prove to them if we want them to eat their words.

  Those kids will be shocked once they see Grace on the water. She rips – and not just for a ‘little girl’.

  Boom. Shhhhhhhhhhh

  Boom. Shhhhhhhhhh.

  ‘Get up!’ Bella shouts. ‘I think we’re in the middle of an earthquake!’

  Emily and Grace spring awake, but I yawn and stretch my arms before I fully sit up.

  I’ve done a lot of research into earthquakes. Geology is my favourite type of science. Or maybe it’s biology, or ecology, or meteorology. Okay, so I like all types of science. ‘That wasn’t an earthquake,’ I say. ‘Earthquakes happen when the stress between two plates within the earth causes one or both plates to slip.’

  Bella rolls her eyes. ‘I know what an earthquake is, Chloe. Didn’t you hear that noise?’

  Boom. Shhhhhhhhhhh.

  ‘There it is!’ Bella yells.

  Grace and I giggle. ‘When the plates slip during an earthquake the surrounding land shakes,’ I say. ‘Have you felt any movement, Bella?’

  Grace opens the bedroom curtains. ‘That was what woke you up: those enormous, crashing waves.’

  Emily rubs her eyes. ‘You guys might not have felt any movement, but I did. There’s a whole lot of rumbling going on in my tummy.’

  Bella throws a pillow at Emily. ‘Okay, okay,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry I’m not used to sleeping next to the ocean. Let’s have breakfast and stop the earthquake in Emily’s belly.’

  Mum and Yiayia have stacks of pancakes waiting for us in the kitchen. The secret ingredient that makes them so thick and tasty is Greek yogurt. I came up with the recipe.

  ‘Don’t eat them all,’ Yiayia says. ‘We need to save some for your baba and Alex.’

  As if on cue, Dad and Alex walk through the door. ‘We went to the shops for supplies,’ Alex says, piling some pancakes onto a plate and sprinkling blueberries on top.

  ‘I bought this too,’ Dad says, throwing a newspaper on the table. ‘We can see if anything exciting is happening in town while we’re here.’

  Bella opens the paper and her eyes light up. ‘Billycart enthusiasts from across the region will gather in Pacific Palms this Saturday for the town’s first ever billycart derby.’

  ‘I’d watch that,’ Grace says.

  Bella jumps out of her chair. ‘You guys can watch it,’ she says. ‘But I’m going in it.’

  Dad coughs into his teacup. ‘Er, nice idea, Bella,’ he says. ‘But we don’t have a billycart.’

  Dad doesn’t know Bella as well as I thought he did. If we already had a billycart, she wouldn’t be interested in racing.

  ‘Leave it to me, Mr Karalis,’ she says. ‘I’ve always wanted to build one.’

  Alex throws a blueberry into the air and catches it in his mouth. ‘Impossible,’ he says. ‘You can’t build a billycart in five days.’

  I fold my arms. Bella, Emily and Grace do the same.

  ‘Mission time,’ Yiayia says. ‘You should know better than to take on these girls, Alexaki mou.’

  Emily bangs a fork against a glass. ‘Would you like to propose a mission, Bella?’

  ‘Yes,’ Bella says, standing to attention. ‘I will not only build a billycart by Saturday, I will race it in the Pacific Palms derby.’

  Yiayia passes Emily a pen and she scribbles on the front page of the newspaper.

  Mission Revhead: Build a billycart and race it in Saturday’s derby.

  ‘All in favour?’ Emily asks.

  Everyone raises their hands. Even Yiayia, Mum, Dad and Alex.

  Emily and I are swinging in the hammock on the deck while Grace goes for a jog and Bella sketches some billycart designs inside.

  ‘I don’t know why people sleep in flat beds,’ I say. ‘A couple of Swiss scientists did some research a few years ago that proved swaying motions can help slow our brain activity into a sleeping pattern.’

  Emily starts whispering numbers.

  ‘What are you counting now?’ I ask.

  ‘Clouds,’ she replies.

  I look up at the sky. ‘Those are cumulus clouds,’ I say. ‘White and puffy, like cotton wool.’

  Emily points at one of the fatter clouds. ‘I wonder how many droplets of water it took to make that one.’

  I love conversations like this, when my love of science and Emily’s passion for maths come together.

  ‘Clouds can contain millions of tonnes of water,’ I say. ‘If you could figure out how many droplets are in a tonne, that would be a good place to start.’

  Yiayia appears with the newspaper from breakfast. She tosses it into my lap. ‘Read me some articles,’ she says. ‘I can’t find my glasses.’

  I open the paper. ‘Hey, there’s a fair coming to town – ah, the billycart derby is part of it. It says it’s running for five whole days because of all the visitors passing through.’

  Emily reads the story out loud for Yiayia. ‘Hundreds of people are expected to visit Pacific Palms from Wednesday to Sunday for the eighty-fifth annual fair. Highlights include the quilt show, cake display, pumpkin-growing contest, pig races and the popular sideshow alley.’

  Yiayia licks her lips. ‘Cake display? I would like to see that.’

  I don’t think I’ve ever been to The Palms’ fair before. Our trips mustn’t have coincided with the last eighty-four of them. ‘Pig races sound funny,’ I say. ‘But what’s a sideshow alley?’

  Emily grunts disapprovingly. ‘It’s where you find games like the ring toss and lucky dips. They’re all rigged.’

  Yiayia pushes the hammock so it swings a little faster. ‘So cynical for such a young girl, Emily,’ she says. ‘You should go to the fair and have some fun.’

  Emily looks up at the sky and I can tell she’s already counting clouds again. ‘I’ll go,’ she says. ‘But if any of those swindlers try to trick me, they better watch out.’

  The shuttlecock hits Yiayia on the nose and she falls backwards in shock.

  I’m on her team, so I’m the first to reach her as Bella and Grace duck under the badminton net to join us. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Where does it hurt?’

  Yiayia’s a little dazed and doesn’t answer.

  ‘Show me your face, Yiayia,’ I say. I know shuttlecocks aren’t exactly dangerous missiles, but Yiayia bruises easily. Her skin seems to be becoming thinner and more sensitive as she gets older. ‘I can’t see any damage. Let’s check the rest of you.’

  Yiayia
dusts off her knees. ‘I’m fine, paidi mou,’ she says. ‘Help me up.’

  Grace grips Yiayia’s wrists and heaves her to her feet. ‘I’m so sorry, Yiayia,’ she says. ‘It was me who hit the shuttlecock.’

  Yiayia shakes our hands off. ‘Back to the game.’

  Yiayia sometimes confuses ambition with ability. She doesn’t like to admit that she’s getting a little frail.

  ‘Let’s take a little break,’ I say. ‘I could use some tea. Then we could go for a walk to the lake before the sun goes down.’

  She knows I’m tricking her out of another round, but she can’t resist the temptation of chamomile tea and the lake.

  Every year, Yiayia and I walk to the lake and feed the seagulls. It’s one of our special places. It’s right near the ocean, and when the tide is up you can’t reach it by foot because a river floods the track. We discovered it by accident when I was just a toddler.

  ‘You’re a clever girl, Chloe,’ she says. ‘I’ll put the kettle on.’

  Mum and Dad are already in the kitchen cooking lamb stew. ‘Ah, just the person we need,’ Dad says. ‘Chloe, something is missing from this kleftiko – what do you think it is?’

  I dip a spoon into the pot to taste the mixture. ‘A lot more garlic,’ I say. ‘And some rosemary.’

  Mum clicks her fingers. ‘Of course, rosemary,’ she says. ‘What would we do without our little cook?’

  I roll my eyes. My parents should know better than to call me a cook. Ever since I was little they’ve talked about Alex and me taking over the restaurant one day. I’ve made it clear I’m not interested. I’m going to be a Nobel Prize-winning scientist, not a restaurateur.

  I think I have a flair for creating recipes because it’s a bit like conducting scientific experiments: a pinch of this, a drop of that. But I’d much rather be mixing ingredients in test tubes in a laboratory.

  ‘Ouch!’ Yiayia yells. ‘Cold water, cold water!’

  Mum runs the cold tap. Yiayia sticks her hand under the stream.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask.

  Yiayia curses under her breath in Greek.

  ‘She has a little burn from the kettle,’ Mum says. ‘She’ll be okay. The lake will have to wait, though.’

  I signal for Bella and Emily to leave the kitchen with me. It hurts Yiayia’s pride when this sort of thing happens in front of my friends.

  ‘Poor Yiayia,’ Emily says. ‘She’s having a bad day.’

  I hope that’s all it is. A single day.

  Grace is surfing like a pro. Every time she turns the board a huge fan of spray shoots off the back.

  ‘Go Grace!’ I call from the sand. ‘You’re ripping!’

  Even Emily looks up from her laptop to watch Grace’s moves. ‘She’s getting really good,’ she says. ‘Her board was completely vertical for a second there.’

  Bella nods towards the dunes. The local kids who hassled Grace when we arrived at The Palms are here. They all look over and smirk.

  ‘Do you reckon they’re related?’ Bella asks. ‘They look alike.’

  All four kids are sandy blond with dark tans. The only differences are one girl and one boy have curls and the others have straight hair.

  I shrug. ‘Only one way to find out.’ I stick two fingers between my lips. Phweeeeeeeeeet.

  ‘Come over here if you want something,’ curly-haired girl calls out.

  Bella, Emily and I hop along the hot sand to the gang. ‘Hi, I’m Chloe,’ I say. ‘This is Bella and Emily, and that’s our friend Grace out surfing.’

  Straight-haired girl laughs. It’s not a real laugh. It’s fake and rude. ‘She’s a kook. That’s what us real surfers call people who are hopeless.’

  Curly-haired girl high-fives straight-haired girl as if she’s just told the joke of the century.

  ‘I’m Kailani,’ curly-haired girl says. ‘This is my best friend Taylor and her brother Ash. And this is my brother Tex.’

  All four of them stare at us, but none crack a smile.

  ‘Well, nice to meet you,’ I say. ‘We’ll be over here watching you guys catch a few waves.’

  Kailani, Taylor, Ash and Tex run to the water while Bella, Emily and I sit back down.

  ‘What jerks,’ Bella says. ‘Let’s not talk to them again.’

  Emily gazes at the water while she waits for her laptop to fire up. ‘Hey, what’s that Tex doing?’

  Tex and Ash are paddling their boards to the inside of Grace so she won’t be able to take off on the next wave.

  ‘Maybe Grace is letting them go first,’ I say. ‘That’s the sort of thing she’d do.’

  A wave rolls in and Ash catches it. Another comes not far behind and Tex takes it.

  ‘This one’s Grace’s,’ Bella says as the next wave comes along.

  Grace turns to catch the wave when Kailani appears on her inside and starts paddling.

  ‘Hey, that’s dangerous!’ I yell.

  Kailani stands up and surfs all the way to shore. She sticks her tongue out at us as she runs along the sand.

  ‘How mature,’ I say. ‘I hope I can come up with something smarter than pulling faces when I’m a teenager.’

  Grace starts to paddle onto another wave but Taylor pushes in front of her.

  ‘It’s called dropping in,’ Bella says. ‘It means taking another surfer’s wave at the last minute, or blocking them from having a decent ride.’

  I can’t see Grace’s face, but she slams her hands down in the water to make a big splash. She’s cranky.

  ‘Let’s go, Grace!’ I call out. ‘Time for lunch!’

  As Grace floats back to us on a small wave, Ash, Tex, Kailani and Taylor start taunting her.

  ‘Better luck next time!’ Taylor calls.

  ‘They run surf lessons for tourists, you know!’ Tex jeers.

  Grace undoes her ankle strap and drops her board on the sand. ‘What is with those guys?’

  I wrap a towel around her shoulders. ‘I don’t think they’re used to strangers,’ I say. ‘Especially awesome surfing strangers like you.’

  Bella thumps on the garage door for the third time.

  ‘All right, I hear ya!’ a voice calls from inside. ‘Hold your horses!’

  Bella taps her foot impatiently. ‘The sign says Jim’s Motor Repairs – Open Monday to Friday,’ she says. ‘So why is the door closed?’

  A grey-haired man in grease-smeared overalls rolls the door up. His name tag says Jim. He seems amused to find four ten-year-old girls on the other side. ‘Can I help you?’

  Bella gets straight down to business. ‘Hello, sir,’ she says. ‘I’m not from here—’

  The man cuts her off. ‘You don’t say. I’ve never had a little girl knock on my door before. They don’t tend to drive cars, you see.’

  Bella politely smiles at Jim’s lame attempt to be funny. ‘Well, I’m after some parts,’ she says. ‘I’m building a billycart for the derby.’

  Jim laughs so hard he loses his breath. ‘Hang on a tic, I’ve got to share this.’ He cups his hands around his mouth and yells, ‘Ralphy! Come over here, will ya?’

  A younger man in the same sort of overalls emerges from a shop across the road.

  ‘Ralph’s Mechanics,’ Bella says. ‘That’s the only other mechanic in town. It was going to be my next stop.’

  Ralph drops a cigarette butt on the ground and crosses the road. I’ve already decided I don’t like him – not only is he significantly cutting his life expectancy by smoking, he’s littering with something that takes at least five years to break down.

  ‘What do we have here, then?’ he asks. ‘You girls looking for some cleaning work? I could use someone to sweep my floor.’

  I groan while Grace clenches her fists and Emily folds her arms.

  Bella keeps her composure as she tries to strike some sort of deal. ‘I guess I’d be willing to sweep your floor in exchange for some materials, sir,’ she says. ‘I need everything from wheels to timber. Whatever you can spare.’

&nbs
p; Ralph scratches his head while Jim laughs some more. ‘This here girl wants to build a billycart,’ Jim explains. ‘She’s not from around these parts.’

  Ralph chortles, pulls a fresh cigarette from his pocket and turns back to his shop. ‘I don’t have time for this malarky,’ he says. ‘I’ve got six oil changes to get done this afternoon.’

  Bella’s confused. We all are.

  ‘Why won’t you help us?’ I ask.

  Jim starts to roll down his garage door. ‘Do you know what day it is?’

  ‘Tuesday,’ we all answer.

  ‘The race is Saturday,’ Jim says. ‘The kids around here have been building their carts for months. You girls aren’t gonna build a billycart in four days.’

  Before we can argue he closes the door all the way. We hear a click on the other side.

  ‘He’s locked it,’ Bella says. ‘I can’t believe it.’

  We’re all in a bit of shock. Jim and Ralph were downright rude.

  ‘He doesn’t know you, Bella,’ I say. ‘If he did, he’d know you can build a billycart by Saturday.’

  Yap, yap, yap. Yap. Yap. A tiny dog is barking at us from behind a gate next to Ralph’s Mechanics.

  ‘Oh, how cute,’ Emily says. ‘Let’s give him a pat.’

  We run across the road and hang our hands over the gate.

  ‘Watch out!’ a voice calls. ‘He bites!’

  Everyone jumps back. There’s so much junk in the yard it’s hard to see where the voice came from.

  ‘There,’ Bella says. ‘Near the front door.’

  An elderly lady, even older than Yiayia, is sitting in a rocking chair. ‘You girls need a mechanic?’

  Bella’s eyes are darting all over the yard.

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘My friend was just looking for some bits and pieces to build a billycart.’

  The lady reaches for a walking stick and hobbles to the front of her porch. ‘Well, come on in,’ she says. ‘Help yourself.’

  Bella jumps for joy. ‘Are you sure?’ she asks. ‘You’ve got so much great stuff here.’

 

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