by Des Hunt
“It was good grass too,” said Morris. “Very tasty.”
Godfrey continued. “After a while the adzebills appeared at the edge of the clearing. But it didn’t seem to worry Chainsaw. He kept on eating as if he didn’t care that they were there. So, again, that’s what we did.”
“He started flicking his tail, didn’t he?” said Morris.
Godfrey nodded. “Yes, I noticed that. Well, we kept eating and the adzebills kept watching. By then I was getting nervous.”
“And you can imagine how frightened I was,” added Morris, “but I didn’t panic this time, did I, Godfrey?”
“No, Mo, you didn’t. And just as well, for after a while Chainsaw started drifting towards the edge of the clearing. So we began drifting too, and very soon the adzebills followed us, moving onto the grass. And that’s when it happened.”
He paused for effect.
But Morris spoilt it by jumping in.
“The earthquake.”
Godfrey gave him a nasty look. “Yes, an earthquake. It caught the adzebills in the middle of the clearing. And that was right where the ground fell in. It was just like that other place where our moho got trapped. But this time it was the adzebills that all went down and got stuck in the sinkhole.”
The moho cheered.
Godfrey continued. “We went to the edge and looked down at them. Boris was extremely angry. If looks could kill then we’d be dead.”
“I poked my tongue out at him,” said Morris, puffing out his chest.
“Whoa!” said the moho.
Jack put a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter.
But Morris hadn’t finished with his tale of bravery. “Then I turned around and pooped into the hole.”
That was too much for the listening birds. They looked at each other in wonder. Who would have thought that a moho could ever do that to an adzebill? It was unbelievable.
Jack could no longer control himself. His laughter exploded past his hand. He quickly tried to make out it was a coughing fit, but Godfrey wasn’t fooled. He turned and winked at Jack. There was the hint of a chuckle in his voice when he continued.
“After that, we made our way here. Chainsaw set a cracking pace. I think he knew that something big was going to happen with The Source.”
“How did he know that an earthquake would trap the adzebills?” asked Emily.
“Some animals can —” began Fluoro.
But Morris butted in. “Chainsaw makes them happen,” he said. “His tail is magic. He flicks it three times and wham. We have an earthquake.”
All eyes went to the cat.
Chainsaw slowly lifted his tail and gave it a flick. And then another one. The moho gasped. Jack moved his hand, took the tail and tucked it back into place.
“Phew!” said Morris. “That was close.”
“What a great adventure,” said Lucy, standing up to take charge again. “OK, moho, it’s time to get back to bed.”
The moho groaned.
Lucy stamped her foot. “Enough of that. Off you go. It’s much too late for you to be up.”
“Yes,” said Fluoro standing. “We must go too.” He looked out over the devastated land. “It’s over now, at least for a while. It’s time for us to go, Jack.”
Jack wasn’t sure about leaving. In this place, Chainsaw lived. Would that be true in the real world? Maybe Chainsaw only existed in this place now.
And yet, the animals seemed to think that the cat was leaving too. They gathered around him to say their goodbyes. Pat became emotional, snuggling up to Chainsaw’s head, and begging him to stay. As always, Chainsaw said nothing.
There were farewells also for Fluoro and Jack, but it was clear that the animals were just being polite. The humans wouldn’t be missed. Lucy in particular seemed keen for them to leave. Maybe she had some idea of what would happen to moa when other humans arrived and stayed.
Finally, Fluoro and Jack moved forward to take a last look at the now quiet volcano.
“Thank you, Jack, for this,” said Fluoro.
“I didn’t do much.”
“I could not have done it by myself. Believe me, I’ve tried.” A pause. “You treated me like a human, Jack, when most didn’t. That’s what you did, and that was the difference.”
Jack nodded. “Will you tell others about this?”
Fluoro chuckled. “Ah, no. I think my reputation would suffer if I started writing about talking animals. But I will write about the eruption. I’ve got lots of ideas from this experience. There are many things I want to study further. Enough to keep me busy for a long time.”
He turned to Jack, offering his hand.
Jack shook it. “Goodbye, Professor Fluoro.”
The man smiled. “And goodbye to you Jack. I hope your life goes well. Perhaps we’ll meet again some other time.”
And with that, they left.
Chapter 22
Jack was back in his bed. The phone was on the pillow beside his head. He went to end the connection, but the phone had turned itself off. He pressed the on button. The screen lit for a moment, displayed the message “Charge Battery”, before turning back off.
He wondered when it had died. Just now or part way through the story? Was it possible that the story continued without the phone? Maybe anything was possible in the link between the present world and the past.
Then Jack had a great idea. He sat up. If anything was possible then maybe Chainsaw was still alive. Perhaps now was the time to go looking for him. He got out of bed and quickly dressed.
The house was quiet as he crept through the lounge to the outside door. The door squeaked, sounding a lot like Pat when he got excited. Jack smiled at the memory of the little bat. Already he missed him.
The moment he stepped outside, he knew he didn’t have enough clothes on. The ground was covered with frost, and the air temperature had to be well below zero. It was no night to go looking for a cat. The pet cats would be curled up inside and even the wild ones would have found a sheltered place for the night.
If Chainsaw existed, where would he be? The only two possibilities Jack could think of were behind the takeaway shop and in Fluoro’s old place. Both would be freezing on a night like this. Perhaps this great idea wasn’t so great after all.
He was standing on the path, shivering while deciding what to do, when the porch light came on. The door opened.
“Jack! What on earth are you doing out there?” It was his mum. “Come inside right now.”
Jack went inside. Anna led him into the kitchen and sat him down at the table. She saw the shivering and rushed off for a blanket.
“Now tell me what that was all about,” she said, after wrapping him up and sitting beside him.
“I was looking for Chainsaw.”
“Is that Mike’s cat? The professor’s?”
“Sort of. Chainsaw made friends with both of us. I think he was a stray.”
“So Mike hasn’t got him?”
Jack shook his head. “I think he got run over when I was in hospital.”
“Then why were you outside just now? The doctor said to take it easy for a while. It’s only four days since you had an operation. Being out in the cold isn’t taking it easy.”
Jack lowered his head. “I was just hoping. That’s all.”
His mother put her arm around him. “Forget about Chainsaw,” she said gently. “We’ll get a kitten. Maureen at the motel says she knows someone who has one to spare. It’s a ginger tabby. We’ll go and have a look tomorrow, eh?” She patted his shoulder. “All right?”
Jack nodded.
“OK. Now let’s get back to bed. I’ve got to get up in three hours time.”
His bed was still warm from earlier. Yet he didn’t go to sleep right away. He thought through the conversation with his mother. She’d said to forget about Chainsaw. But he couldn’t do that. Friends didn’t forget each other so readily. However he did know that worrying about the cat wouldn’t help. All the worrying in the wo
rld wasn’t going to bring him back.
Getting a kitten was the right thing to do. He thought about the cat his mum had mentioned. While it wasn’t a grey tabby like Chainsaw, maybe it would grow up to be just as good.
Then an image came into Jack’s head of Chainsaw as a ginger tabby sitting beside Fluoro. Both were dressed in orange. Jack laughed out loud. Yes, a ginger tabby would do very well. The tabby stripes reminding him of Chainsaw, and the colour, the professor. “Fluoro,” Jack whispered into the darkness, and the name sounded exactly right for an orange-coloured cat.
Jack woke to a noise. He didn’t know what the noise was, but he knew he’d heard something and it was close. He scanned the shadowy shapes in his room. Nothing different.
Maybe he’d imagined it. He knew he’d been dreaming, but couldn’t remember any details. The noise could have been part of that.
He’d snuggled back down when it came again. Something was tapping on the window. Jack relaxed. It would be the plant that grew out there. In strong winds it often bashed against the house.
It came again. And again. And yet again. If the wind kept going like this then he’d never get back to sleep.
But was it really the wind? Jack thought back to when he’d been outside shivering. There had been no wind then. Everything had been icy still. He listened. There was no sound of trees moving.
Again the tapping. This time more urgent.
Jack got out of bed and opened the curtain. There was a shape on the window ledge that shouldn’t be there. The shape of an animal.
That was the moment when Jack heard another sound. It was the meow of a cat.
With racing heart, he unlatched the window.
Chainsaw pushed his way through onto the sill. There was no hello meow or any welcome. For a while he looked around the room checking things out. Then he eyed the bed. Crouching back, he leapt across the space where Jack was standing. For a while he sniffed at the duvet before moving to the warm centre. Only then did he turn and look back at Jack.
Jack wanted to say “Hello, Chainsaw” but his mouth wouldn’t work. Nor would any of his muscles. If he moved, the dream would be broken and the cat would disappear.
Chainsaw had no such problems about moving. He began kneading away at the bed, forming a nest. When he had it to his satisfaction, he turned to Jack and meowed. It was a clear invitation to get back into bed.
Jack forced his body to take a step forward. Nothing changed. So, taking care not to disturb Chainsaw’s space, he lifted the duvet and climbed in. When he was settled he stretched out to stroke Chainsaw’s head.
“Hello, Chainsaw,” he said, very softly. “I thought you were dead.”
Chainsaw gave a little mew and rubbed his head against the hand.
“I’ve been thinking about getting a kitten.”
Chainsaw stopped rubbing. He raised his tail and glared at Jack.
“A ginger tabby.”
The tail moved. Flick. Flick.
“But I’ve changed my mind,” Jack added quickly. “I’ve decided that a grey tabby called Chainsaw would make a much better pet.”
The tail relaxed.
So too did Jack. “Are you here for good?” he asked.
In answer Chainsaw turned in circles three times before settling down tight against Jack’s legs. The chainsaw started and the claws came out. One pierced all the way through the duvet, the sheet, Jack’s PJ’s, and into his thigh.
To Jack, it was the best pain ever. It proved that this was no dream. He now had a pet cat — the one he had wanted all along.
The noise of the purring got louder and louder until it filled the little bedroom. Some people might have found it difficult to sleep with such a racket. But not Jack Stewart. To him it was music. A song that he hoped would keep him company for many years to come.
The End
Author’s Note
The Taupo eruption at around 200 AD was the most violent in the world anytime in the last 5000 years. All plant and animal life within 90 km of Taupo was destroyed by the “giant, dull-red blob.” (Scientists call it a pyroclastic flow.) Ash fell over most of the North Island. Streams and rivers were blocked, forming lakes. The floods that occurred when these burst spread mud as far away as the East and West coasts.
Will it erupt again?
Yes!
When?
Who can say? It could be in a few years, or thousands.
Will we get any warning?
Yes! Taupo is surrounded by equipment that records any changes in the molten rock that lies deep below the lake. There will be time for people to get away from Taupo, Rotorua and other towns that could be affected. It will be a huge civil defence emergency, but if everyone is sensible, no humans should die. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the millions of other animals that live in the area.
All the species described in this story survived the eruption. Lucy’s species — North Island giant moa, Dinornis novaezeelandiae — lasted until Maori arrived and settled. They were probably extinct by 1400AD.
Godfrey’s lot — Cnemiornis gracilis — also lasted until about 1400AD. Like the moa they would have been hunted for food and feathers.
Boris and the rest of the adzebills — Aptornis otidiformis — were able to defend themselves better than the moa and geese. Nevertheless, they still died from hunting and were gone by 1500 AD.
The moho — Porphyrio mantelli — survived much longer. The last was seen in 1894. Their South Island cousins — takahe, Porphyrio hochstetteri — were thought to have also disappeared around the same time. Fortunately a colony was found in Fiordland in 1948.
Emily’s species — kaka, Nestor meridionalis — survive in native forests throughout New Zealand, and in some places are increasing in numbers.
And last, but not least, is Pat the bat’s family. The lesser short-tailed bat — Mystacina tuberculata — is still around, but only just. Like many other New Zealand native species, they need human help to survive. We must kill the stoats and rats that attack them. We must also make sure that the forests where they live remain unchanged. But most importantly we must understand that these species have an equal right to live in this land.
