by Janet Reid
‘Just so long as you don’t want sugar on it,’ he whispered as Mum opened the pantry door and kicked a cardboard box. Bottles rattled and clinked.
‘And what on earth were you doing with these, Peter?’ she said, looking down at the box of bottles. ‘You could at least put things away after you’ve used them.’
Amber opened her mouth to own up. She didn’t want her father getting the blame for all the things she’d done. But her mother was talking again.
And Dad was ignoring her now. He was peering at the daily Sudoku in the paper.
‘Now, Amber,’ Mum said as she plonked the cereal box and the carton of milk on the table, ‘I’m going to be late again today, so do you think you can stop with Mrs Heggety again? She seems only too happy to have you there. But make sure you use your manners, and don’t let her give you too much junk food. I’m not sure you should be eating all those cream biscuits.’
Amber smiled, remembering how her mother had helped herself to four of those cream biscuits the afternoon before.
‘Now hurry up and finish your breakfast,’ continued Mum. ‘You have to be at school early again today, don’t you? To organise your storeroom?’
… and look for the piece of glass. Amber started shovelling cereal into her mouth.
‘Amber …’ warned Mum.
The moment Amber got to school she rushed to the junior playground. She was down on her hands and knees, looking through the grass, when she heard footsteps behind her.
‘What on earth are you doing?’
Amber looked up. There was Rachel, hands on hips.
‘Ah … I thought I dropped something here yesterday.’
‘What was it? Do you want me to help you look?’
‘Ah … no. It’s alright,’ she said, surprised at Rachel’s offer. ‘It was nothing important.’
‘Well, come on then. We’ve got work to do.’ Rachel strode up the path, her ponytail bobbing along behind her.
Reluctantly, Amber clambered to her feet, grabbed her school bag and trudged off after her. She forced down the dread that was bubbling away inside and told herself Jimell would surely think of something if she couldn’t find the last piece of glass.
She turned and looked back at the spot where the bottle had broken and a movement in the bushes caught her eye. Was somebody there? She stepped forward to see who it was.
‘Are you coming, Amber?’ called Rachel.
‘Yes,’ she answered as her eyes swept over the bushes. She couldn’t see anyone.
‘Well, come on then,’ said Rachel, impatiently.
Amber sighed. She must have imagined she had seen something. Or maybe it was just the wind. She turned and followed Rachel to the classroom.
As they worked in the storeroom, Amber pushed aside her anxiety about the bottle. She and Rachel had plenty to do and the time slipped by quickly. She was surprised when Ms Kruger stuck her head around the doorway.
‘Time to finish off now, girls,’ she said. ‘Wow, you’ve done a wonderful job in here, Rachel. And you too, Amber. Now, the bell’s about to ring so go and line up with the others.’
Rachel beamed up at Ms Kruger as she bobbed out of the storeroom. Amber was left to push the last of the boxes into place. By the time she got to the landing outside, Marissa and Rachel had their heads together, laughing.
‘Wait until you hear what happened yesterday,’ Amber heard Marissa say, and her heart dropped. She knew what was going to come next. She watched as some of the other girls leaned in to listen. And Lukus, too.
Determined to ignore them, Amber headed for the back of the line. She could see Ricco crouched down, prodding something with a twig. But as she walked past the group, huddled with heads together, she heard Marissa say, ‘… and then her eyes turned red. I mean really, really red, like burning coals …’
‘You mean, like she was crying?’ asked Rachel.
‘No. I mean like … her eyes … the coloured bits … red …’
Lukus laughed. ‘Yeah. As if,’ he scoffed. ‘People’s eyes don’t turn red just ’cos they’re angry.’
‘Well hers did. Cross my heart. They were bright red. Blazing. Just like …’ And Marissa let her voice drop ‘… devil’s eyes.’
Amber’s head was swimming. Is that what really happened? Was that why her eyes had felt so hot?
The group fell silent and they all turned to look at Amber. To look at her eyes …
‘Get into line, class,’ shouted Ms Kruger from the doorway. ‘Come on, hurry up, you lot. You’re not in grade one anymore.’
Amber hurried to the end of the line. Ricco stood up beside her, a half-dead grasshopper in his hand. What was he going to do with that? she wondered.
After lunch, Ms Kruger handed out the unfinished collages. ‘Right, everyone,’ she called. ‘These have to be finished this afternoon. They’ll be going down to the hall tomorrow. I hope everyone’s told their parents about the art show. All items will be on sale.’
‘I don’t think anyone’ll buy mine, miss,’ Lukus called out.
‘Oh, I’m sure your mother will.’
Lukus snorted. ‘Yeah, right …’
Ms Kruger licked her lips, about to say something else, then looked away with a shake of her head. ‘Now, I’m sure everyone has brought along lots of materials to use. It might be nice if you all shared …’
Amber looked over at Ricco and the small bag of wool he had in front of him. She held up her shoe box, full to the brim with all the stuff Mrs Heggety had given her. ‘Want to share?’ she asked.
There was a faint tinkling of a bell, and Amber looked up to see Miss Warburton at the door.
‘Just popping in to see how everyone’s going,’ she called, fluttering around the room, checking glue pots and praising everyone’s work.
Ms Kruger wandered about, too. She turned up her nose at Lukus’s work, ruffled Ricco’s dark curls and hardly glanced at Amber’s collage before moving on to Rachel.
‘That’s wonderful, Rachel,’ she said. ‘You have a real talent. Keep up the good work.’
Rachel beamed up at Ms Kruger, her ponytail giving a bounce.
Ms Kruger moved on and looked down at Marissa’s work.
‘Marissa,’ she screamed, ‘what on earth have you got there? Is that a piece of glass? For heaven’s sake, you should know better than that.’
And she reached down and plucked a sliver of glass from Marissa’s collage. ‘Don’t you know how dangerous that is? You could have cut yourself.’
‘But –’ whined Marissa.
‘No “buts”, Marissa. I will not have anyone cutting themselves in my classroom.’ And she swiped a tissue from the box, wrapped up the piece of glass and dropped it into the bin.
But not before Amber saw it was red. Red like Jimell’s bottle. Could it be …?
Her stomach tumbled with excitement.
But how was she going to get it back?
‘Amber, can I use this?’ asked Ricco, holding up the silver ribbon.
‘Yeah, sure,’ Amber muttered, her mind on the rubbish bin. There had to be a way …
Ricco reached for the glue, and knocked the pot over.
Thank you, Ricco. Amber quickly grabbed some tissues to mop up the mess. Then, glancing around, she saw Ms Kruger was busy helping someone on the other side of the room. She dumped her sticky tissues into the bin and, as she did, she snatched up the one that held her precious piece of glass. She could feel its sharp edges as she slipped it into her pocket and gave it a gentle squeeze. Now she would be able to fix Jimell’s bottle properly.
She just hoped she wasn’t too late.
That night, Amber sat on her bed with the ruby bottle beside her, the stopper out. She had her fingers crossed as she lifted the lid of the sugar bowl.
‘Jimell,’ she whispered. And as his familiar form rose up and hovered in front of her, she realised she had been holding her breath.
‘It’s fixed,’ she said. ‘I found the last piece of glass and Mrs Hegg
ety glued it in. Look.’ She held up the ruby bottle for her djinn to see.
‘Amber, you did it!’ cried Jimell. ‘I knew you would.’ And to test it out he disappeared down the neck of the bottle, then popped right back out again, rushed to Amber and threw his arms around her neck.
‘Now,’ he said, pulling back, ‘I’d love to stay and find out how you did it, but I’m afraid I really need to spend some time back in my old home. You know, to replenish myself. I’m still feeling a bit … ah … faded from the whole experience. I should be alright in a couple of days, but for now, my beautiful, brilliant Amber star, goodnight.’
And with that he slipped back into his bottle and called for the stopper.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘Can I help?’
Ricco stood at the doorway of the storeroom on Friday morning, staring at all the boxes and bags scattered across the floor. Amber looked up, thankful for the offer. The fete was tomorrow and she was beginning to wonder if they would ever get all this jumble sorted.
‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ said Rachel. ‘Ms Kruger said it was only Amber and me doing this.’
‘But look what you still have to do,’ he said. ‘Anyway, Ms Kruger isn’t here. I saw her going up to the staff room, so she won’t even know.’
Rachel huffed. ‘Well, I suppose you can help. But don’t blame me if you get into trouble.’
Ricco grinned at Amber. ‘Where will I start?’ he asked.
‘You can help me with this box,’ she said.
And as they sorted through the items, Amber found he was a great help. Until he got distracted.
‘Hey, look at this,’ he said as he held up an old chipped mug with a hideous face on it. ‘Do you think anyone will buy it?’
Amber pulled a face and held up a figurine that had a large bulbous nose, gigantic ears and a fat saggy belly. ‘What about this?’ she said, laughing. ‘It’s just as bad.’
Rachel huffed again. ‘Of course someone will buy them,’ she snapped. ‘That’s what people do at fetes. They buy stuff they don’t really want. Anyway, I thought you were here to help,’ she said to Ricco. ‘You and Amber are just being silly. I might as well be doing this by myself.’ And she grabbed another box and started sorting through it.
Amber and Ricco looked at each other and tried not to laugh. Ricco bent his knees, stuck out his belly as far as it would go – which wasn’t far – and held his hands behind his ears, flapping them. Amber slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a giggle. It felt good somehow. A bit like when Jimell had hugged her. She was glad Ricco had come to help them.
‘Are … are you coming tomorrow?’ she asked. He hadn’t mentioned coming to the fete and suddenly she hoped that he’d be there.
‘Don’t know yet,’ answered Ricco, pulling a ceramic toad out of a bag and putting it in the box with the old chipped mug. ‘Dad wants to go up to the farm for the weekend but Mum says she’s got too much work. Dad says we could go without her but she’s not very happy about that. Guess I won’t know until tomorrow morning. Hey, what do you think of this?’ And he held up a rubber snake.
It looked real. Amber squealed.
Rachel looked up and scowled.
That night, after climbing into bed, Amber reached for the ruby bottle. She peered at it in the lamplight and found it difficult to see where it had been broken. All she could make out was where Mrs Heggety had glued in the last tiny fragment of glass – the one Marissa had found.
‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘please let him be alright.’ And she pulled the stopper.
Jimell popped out of the bottle, grinning as if nothing had happened.
‘Amber, you did it. You fixed my bottle. Thank you.’ And he flung his arms around her neck and hugged her tight, just like he had the other day. It felt so good.
‘It wasn’t just me, remember,’ she said. ‘If it hadn’t been for Mrs Heggety …’
‘Hush, Amber,’ said Jimell, pulling back. ‘The thing is you knew who to go to for help.’
Amber thought about that and wondered if that was really what she’d done. She wasn’t sure …
‘So, big day tomorrow?’ Jimell interrupted her thoughts. ‘Are you looking forward to it?’
‘The fete? Yes. I suppose.’ Was she looking forward to it? Last year, Bethany … She shook her head. Bethany wasn’t here anymore and she couldn’t go to the fete with her. And Ricco, well, he’d probably be up at the farm.
‘Want to read some more of the diary?’ she asked, eager to forget the fete for a while.
‘Yes, please,’ said Jimell, settling himself on her shoulder, ready for more of Roger Heggety’s tales.
Rafiq was right, of course. I had never been good at sea travel. As the small boat was tossed about on the waves, my stomach began to rebel. Even so, I made sure the sack containing my ruby bottle was safely stowed under the seat. Eventually Rafiq spotted the ship and, with the early morning breeze filling the sails, we moved through the water and alongside the huge vessel.
‘Good morning, Berk,’ called Rafiq as a face appeared above us. ‘I have a passenger for you, if you can take him.’
‘Where does he want to go?’ asked Berk. ‘We are only going down south for a shipment of tea on this run.’
‘I’m sure this gentleman will be grateful for the passage. Perhaps there he will find another ship to take him further.’
Berk grunted and called orders to his crew. Before I knew it, I was standing on the deck, my sack clutched tightly to my chest. I looked back down at the small fishing boat and, though my stomach was beginning to lurch about dangerously, I called to Rafiq. ‘Thank you for all you have done. I shall never forget this favour.’
‘Any time, my friend. And may Jimell bring peace and good fortune to your world.’ And Rafiq’s small boat moved away. Within minutes it had disappeared.
I turned to look at my new host and wondered whether I had done the right thing. The scars he bore could only have been the result of a long, harsh life.
‘Come,’ said Berk, scratching his thick greying beard. ‘You look in need of a bunk. I will show you below deck. You can have my cabin. Would you like food?’
My face must have turned an odd colour for he chuckled and said, ‘No, perhaps not. Maybe a bucket instead.’
It was difficult to sleep. The cabin was small and stuffy, with only one small porthole which I had already opened to allow in as much fresh air as possible. As the ship sailed south, it tossed about on the waves of the open sea, and my stomach tossed about with it.
I must have drifted off to sleep eventually, for when I woke it was dark. And, above me, men were shouting. Something was not right. I groped about for my sack and reached in for my precious bottle. Its glow brightened the gloomy cabin and it was hot to touch. What could this mean? Up above, the commotion grew louder and the bottle glowed even brighter. With shaking fingers I gripped the stopper and pulled. The djinn spewed out and flew to the door, slipping through the wide gap at the bottom.
Heaven knows what happened next, but it sounded like everyone on board was yelling at once. Boots thudded, and something heavy was dragged across the deck.
And then I smelt smoke. There was a fire on board the ship.
I ignored my heaving stomach and reached for my boots, pulled them on, and had the mind to snatch up my now-empty ruby bottle. Clutching it close, I wrenched open the door.
Thick smoke filled the corridor but, covering my mouth and nose with my ghutra which I still wore, I made my way to the stairs. Within moments I was up on deck, amidst chaos and mayhem. Men ran in all directions, some shouting orders, others manning hoses or pumps.
I could not see the fire through the billowing smoke and feared it would spread before the crew had a chance to extinguish it.
That was when I heard a rumble. Thunder? I looked up. Sure enough, dark clouds, streaked with lightning, were beginning to fill the sky. But would they reach us in time? More thunder; more flashes of lightning. The wind from the
storm was whipping up waves and the salt spray was hitting my face. The boat rolled and I was thrown across the deck. A sailor caught me, and put me on my feet again. Lightning flashed and I could see the grim expression on his face. How close was that storm? And as I looked to the sky once more, I felt the first drop of rain on my up-turned face. The heavens opened and within seconds I was drenched.
And so was the fire. Not even a wisp of smoke could be seen when I next looked across the deck. Sailors who, only minutes before, had been fighting the blaze were now hanging on for dear life as the wind lashed the ship, rolling it from side to side and driving the rain in torrents across the deck.
And as quickly as the storm had blown up, it abated, leaving the sea calm and the crew astounded.
At that moment my delicate stomach reminded me of where I was, and I rushed back to the cabin and fell gratefully onto my bunk, a bucket close at hand.
I felt a draught, and opened my eyes to see the djinn sliding back into the room. I pulled the stopper from the bottle and watched as he slipped inside, just as there was a knock at the door.
‘Are you alright in there?’ called a voice. Not Berk, but one of his crew. I staggered to my feet. ‘Yes,’ I said as I opened the door. ‘The storm … It was sudden.’
‘Yes,’ said the sailor. ‘Though where it came from so suddenly, we have no idea. But without it, we would have lost the ship.’ Then he added ominously, ‘And all our lives.’
To this day, I wonder what happened once the djinn was released, but one thing I know is that I was glad to have that ruby bottle with me on that dark, moonless night.
‘You did it, didn’t you?’ said Amber. ‘It was you who made that storm happen.’
‘Well … not exactly,’ said Jimell. ‘It was coming anyway. I just made it … well, shall we say, I speeded things up a bit.’
Just then, a loud clatter came from next door. Amber pulled the curtain back and looked across at Mrs Heggety’s house. The light was on in the kitchen and Amber could hear something being dropped into the sink.
‘I hope she’s not burning more cakes,’ she said. ‘Do you think you should go and help her?’ She looked down at Jimell. There was a sly grin on his face.
