Wicked's Way

by Anna Fienberg

  It felt good to be telling Treasure something she didn’t know. He felt more grown up. And he liked using his mother’s words; it was as if she were here nestled inside him, whispering.

  ‘I’ll show you, if you’d like,’ he said. ‘Later we can practise on something lower. That’s how my mother taught me.’

  Treasure rustled in her pocket for her notebook and pencil. She settled herself on a large mangrove root, her face lifted up to him expectantly.

  As Will placed his foot on the rope, a calm came over him. His mind went straight to his centre, that steady ticking place in his middle. He let the feeling fill him, and although the sun danced on his skin and a fish leapt in the water, his eyes didn’t shift from the prize.

  With each step he felt for his centre. He didn’t need to touch it; that place just above his navel. It was a ball of liquid gold, balancing the world inside him. No one can take that from you, his mother said.

  At the other end, he stepped off the rope and climbed into the tree. He heard Treasure call something, but he didn’t feel like talking yet. Most folk would probably find this a scary place, where a fall would mean broken bones at best. But here he felt safe. Above him a nest rustled with baby birds. A hummingbird flew in, its wings beating wildly. As it turned in the sunlight, its throat glowed purple.

  When Will came down, he told Treasure, ‘It was feeding its babies, right at the top there. You have to stay still as a stone to watch. I’ve seen hummingbirds fly backwards and forwards, up and down.’

  Treasure was writing busily. ‘Really? Backwards? That’s very unusual. I’ve never seen one up close. What do they use for their nest?’

  ‘Twigs and bark and moss, and once I saw the fluff from my mother’s red blanket – the lining has to be soft for the eggs.’

  Suddenly Will didn’t want any more words. A wave was rising in his chest, bringing urgent thoughts back in. ‘I’m going up the hill now,’ he said.

  He tore through the bloodwoods and the giant ferns with leaves like serving plates. He could hear Treasure crashing behind but he couldn’t slow his feet. He vaulted over the garden wall covered in vines and raced up the path.

  ‘Mother! Mother!’ he cried, as he ran through the open door. ‘I’m home!’

  A fly buzzed on the table. Pieces of pawpaw lay on a plate. Ants crawled in the mushed orange flesh.

  He picked up the knife lying near the plate. It was caked with dried juice, and a single black seed stuck to the blade. A box of broken eggs lay open, bits of shell glued to the floor in a puddle of yolk. The fire in the wood stove had turned to ash and the iron pot on top was cold. It was so still in that room that it didn’t feel true. A spell had bewitched his home, and put everything to sleep.

  ‘What a mess,’ said Treasure, clicking her tongue. ‘Probably a mongoose. Aren’t they like pirates? Always raiding and plundering. Still, I suppose they have to eat like everybody else …’

  Will ran through the side door and out to the mango tree. He thrashed at the grasses. He dug his nails into the sweet potato vines and the wild sorrel, pulling up stems by the roots. He kicked the stupid stones in the stupid dirt.

  He ran and kicked and swore until his breath was gone. Then he flung himself face-down in the grass. Everything was black beneath his lids. The quiet of the treetops had vanished, the gold had gone. He never wanted to see his home again with those festering ants or that raiding, plundering mongoose. He never wanted to see his home again without his mother in it.

  Chapter 4

  Will didn’t say much on the way back to Treasure’s. He answered when she spoke to him, which was quite a lot, but he didn’t like his wobbly voice or the lump in his throat that swelled each time he opened his mouth.

  ‘I’ll make us some lunch,’ said Treasure in a bright tone, when they walked through her door. ‘We can have tomatoes and cheese and then Mamma will be home – maybe she will have some news.’

  Will wandered outside and came back in. He set up a fire in the wood stove for the evening, and straightened the table. He fidgeted all through lunch and got up the moment it was finished.

  It was easier to keep walking around. When he stood still, there was the grey place at the edge of the world where everything meets but nothing is said. He studied the paintings of ships on the walls and looked at the titles of the books on the shelves. One caught his eye and he pulled it out.

  ‘Do you want to read that?’ said Treasure. ‘It’s about a man who was shipwrecked on an island.’

  ‘What, right here?’

  ‘No, not this island. His ship sank and he was all alone, so he had to learn how to survive by himself. Then one day, for the first time, he saw footprints on the beach – a human’s footprints …’

  ‘Whose were they? A pirate’s?’

  ‘Why don’t you read it?’

  Will made a face. ‘I don’t know my letters very well yet.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Treasure, ‘I do. I love to read – my mother says we only get one life but if we read we can live a thousand.’

  Will thought about this. ‘Has she read a thousand books?’

  Treasure shrugged. ‘Do you want me to read it to you? I’ll trace the words with my finger as I go.’

  Treasure sat next to Will on the wicker couch. As she read, pictures of the shipwrecking storm filled his mind. Waves rose up like cliffs but the sailor swam through them. Will wished he had learned to swim too, and remembered that this was another thing on his mother’s list to teach him.

  He found himself imagining the sailor and his feelings on sighting land, the deathly weariness of his limbs, the foul taste of sea water in his mouth, and he let himself be carried away from this awful day just like the sailor by the waves.

  Both Will and Treasure jumped when Honey came in. She dumped a bunch of bananas on the table and a pair of canvas shoes.

  Will scanned Honey’s face. He had to take a deep breath before he asked his question. But Treasure tumbled straight in.

  ‘Did you hear any news?’

  ‘Yes and no,’ said Honey slowly. She picked up the shoes and waved them at Will. ‘I met someone who knows you.

  Who knows exactly what size your feet are, and that you are in need of these.’

  ‘But how is that?’ said Treasure. She turned to Will. ‘I thought you were a Secret!’

  Will’s throat was dry. But he managed to whisper the one thing he needed to know. ‘Did you find my mother?’

  Honey shook her head.

  ‘Well, but did you find anyone who’s seen her?’

  Honey came to sit next to him on the rocking chair. ‘I don’t know where your mother is right now, Will. It’s going to take some time. But there’s a woman I see at the market a couple of times a year. She doesn’t live on our island, she travels here to buy herbs – medicinal, mostly. She has a Siamese cat that sits on her shoulders. They say she’s a Wise Woman. She doesn’t say much, and she talks in riddles. But there’s something about her. You tend to believe whatever she says.’

  ‘Well, what is her name?’ asked Treasure. ‘Where does she come from?’

  Honey rocked on the chair for a moment. Her eyes weren’t focused on Treasure or Will or the shoes in her lap. She looked far away, as if she were still listening to the strange woman’s words.

  ‘Mamma?’

  ‘Gretel,’ said Honey, coming back to the moment. ‘Her name is Gretel, and she sails here in her little boat all the way from Devil Island.’

  ‘Oh!’ said Will, glancing up at Treasure. ‘That’s the place where they have only one name.’

  Honey shivered. ‘That’s right. It’s a cursed place. You don’t ever want to go there.’

  ‘Yes I do,’ said Treasure. ‘One day I’m going to visit and find out why they only have one name. And then I’m going to put them in my book.’

  ‘They won’t tell you, Treasure, my dear. Folks on Devil Island are all hard as nails and thick as coots. They don’t bother to learn their letters or do their sum
s because there’s no hope for them.’

  Will and Treasure looked at each other.

  Honey stared down at the shoes in her lap. ‘It’s worse for the boys.’ She frowned, thinking. ‘But then, maybe it’s worse for the girls because some of them grow up to become mothers.’

  ‘What’s worse?’ asked Will.

  ‘Every year,’ said Honey, ‘sure as the hurricanes blow in, pirates come raiding Devil Island.’

  ‘Pirates?’ whispered Will.

  Honey clicked her teeth in disgust. ‘Vermin of the seas. Scum of the earth. They steal all the twelve-year-old boys and put them to work like slaves on their ships. They keep them for two years, but most don’t even live that long. If there were a spell to get rid of every last pirate, I’d be dancing the high jig. Why, I’d not mourn a single one amongst them, and that’s a fact.’

  Will swallowed. He could never tell them about his father. He knew that now. Pirates, even pirates from Some Reluctance, were unmentionable.

  But Honey was studying his feet. ‘Those sandals are wet. I see river weed.’ She looked stern. ‘Have you been out?’

  ‘We went back to Turnabout Hill,’ Treasure said, putting an arm around Will’s shoulders, ‘to see if his mother had come home.’

  ‘Oh my word,’ said Honey. ‘You mustn’t do that again. It could be very dangerous. Until we know what has happened to your mother, Will, I don’t want you or Treasure going there alone.’

  Will jumped up, knocking away Treasure’s arm. ‘But I have to, I have to! My mother could come home any time and what would she do if I wasn’t there?’

  ‘Sit down, Will sweetheart, and listen. A Wise Woman knows many things that we don’t. I said nothing of you at market. But when Gretel heard me asking at the bread stall about your mother, she turned to me and whispered, “Have you got the boy?”

  ‘Well, I didn’t know what to say, I was so astonished. But she just nodded when she saw my face and said, “Good, that’s as it should be. He must stay with you, under your protection. He has no shoes, so mind he wears these.” And she handed me this pair here, see? “The shoes are charmed and will help keep him safe,” she went on. “But I can’t give him protection very far from your home. He must not go upriver, and never back to Turnabout Hill. You must tell him.” She pressed my hand when she said that, just lightly, but my arm turned icy cold from the wrist to the shoulder. Such an odd sensation.’ And Honey shuddered, rubbing her arm.

  There was silence for a minute as they all thought about Gretel’s words. Will remembered how hard it had been to stay in his house and yet how unbearable it was to leave.

  ‘But what is the danger?’ he burst out.

  Honey shook her head, her lips clasped together. ‘Like I said, when Gretel talks, you believe her. And you heed her words.’

  Will sucked the inside of his cheek. Who was this Wise Woman? Was she a Traveller, could she read the future in the flames? His mother said that not all those Travellers had the gift; some just pretended and made up pretty stories for a handful of silver.

  ‘The fishmonger told me that he’d seen your mother’s boat just this morning, tied up next to his like always,’ Honey said. ‘So she sure hasn’t sailed off – at least not of her own choice.’ Honey stared darkly at the floor. ‘Devil Island’s not the only place raided by pirates, you can be sure of that. There are folk about that none of us should like to meet.’

  ‘There was a man,’ Will said suddenly. ‘Came to our house smoking a cigar. He said he was passing through. Do you think … ?’

  Honey turned to Will then, lifting his chin with her finger. ‘I don’t know what to think right now. I only know you can’t go back home alone. And I can’t risk it myself either, what with both of you to care for. We’ll just have to keep our ears open. We’ll sit tight and wait until she returns. Your mother will be doing everything she can to get back to you, Will, you can count on that.’

  In the quiet of the room a dragonfly buzzed, trapped, at the windowsill.

  ‘And in the meantime you’ll stay here and keep us company,’ put in Treasure. ‘I can teach you your letters and you can teach me the tightrope. We’ll be all right!’

  Will looked at Honey frowning at him in concern. He felt Treasure’s hand squeeze his shoulder. They were kind, honest people and they knew a lot about the world. But the idea of never going back was impossible. He would find a way to return, he would, and it would be soon.

  In the weeks following the day that Honey met the Wise Woman, Will’s world changed. Sometimes, when he stopped for a moment, he wondered who he was now. He used to be content to spend hours alone practising the tightrope or sit, watching, in the trees. He’d absorb things silently, like grass sucking in sunlight. And if he had important things to tell about what he’d seen or thought or dreamt, he saved them up for his mother.

  But now there was always someone there, right next to his thoughts. And there was always something new to do. It was as if the world had been a scrunched-up ball of paper and suddenly it had opened up.

  ‘After breakfast,’ Treasure said one morning, ‘I’ll show you my hermit crab. I’m keeping him as a pet so I can learn about him. Hermit crabs are fascinating. Do you keep any?’

  ‘Never even seen one. But I’d like to.’

  From under a rock ledge she pulled out a wooden box. ‘Hermy,’ she said, ‘meet Will.’

  Will saw a blue-and-white stripy shell, a small bowl of water, some cut-up apple and green leafy vegetables. But no sign of a crab.

  ‘Pick up the shell, that’s right. Now give it a gentle tap.’

  Will peered inside. He took a sharp breath when a large claw and popping eyes appeared at the opening.

  ‘That’s Hermy. Mostly he hides in his shell, but he comes out to eat and drink and say hello. He loves his home but he’s growing fast and soon it will be too small.’

  Will liked Hermy’s surprised eyes and waving feelers. He looked curious and friendly and very smart. Will didn’t want him to be homeless. ‘What will he do then?’ he asked.

  ‘He’ll have to move house,’ said Treasure. ‘That’s what hermit crabs do. They have to keep finding a bigger home as they grow. If you like we can go down to the beach later and look for one. Or maybe two, so he has a choice.’

  As Treasure changed Hermy’s water and refreshed his food, Will wondered how Hermy would feel about his new house, and how much he’d miss his old one. If he’d lived all his life so far in the blue stripy shell, how could he ever get used to something different?

  But when they found a bigger shell, and Will watched the athletic way Hermy manoeuvred himself out of the old and into the new, popping his head out again to devour a clump of weed, he saw that Hermy had made himself at home.

  Will felt strangely cheered by Hermy’s successful move. He wasn’t sure why, but somehow he had a special feeling about Hermy, as if they understood each other and had something important in common. Treasure let him take on the job of looking after Hermy’s food and water, and that was the first thing he did each morning.

  Will liked looking after Hermy. He liked having a routine, and he would make it last, spending a long time coaxing him out of his shell and watching him eat. Will enjoyed feeding the goats too and running his hands through their fleece. And in the late afternoons he’d take Treasure out to the rope he’d strung up between the coconut palms in her garden, and teach her how to find her balance. She was an eager student and concentrated well, and each day she could stay on the rope a little longer. But the part of the day that Will enjoyed most now was when he sat down with Treasure to read.

  Soon he knew all the letters of the alphabet, and could put many of them together into words that made sense. And at the end of the lesson, when Treasure read him a story, he flew away with her to a different place.

  They finished the sailor story and went on to read the adventures of tiny folk the size of rolling pins. There was a boy who climbed a bean-stalk into the clouds and a giant who caused an e
arthquake every time he walked in the forest. Reading with Treasure was like being up in the trees; his own troubles shrank so he could barely see them, so carried away was he by a story.

  What he hated, though, was when Treasure closed the book and he was dropped like a brick back into the real world.

  Before long he decided he’d have to do extra practice on his own if he wanted to be able to read as easily as Treasure. It would be like having her voice inside him whenever he wanted. And you never knew when a person might be snatched away. Baby turtles could be snatched by birds, lizards gobbled up before they’d lived their first day. And although Will couldn’t help being interested in each new thing as it came along, he became wary. Where once he used to just glance at things and accept them, now he looked twice, to make sure. He hung on to things and traced their shape in his mind to store for later in case they vanished.

  Through every day there ran the thought of returning home. It was always there, holding him slightly apart from everything else.

  Chapter 5

  Will saw four full moons come and go before the big rains came. Honey said he should move inside to sleep, so they strung up his hammock near the big window overlooking the garden.

  Often now he read by the light of the kerosene lamp. He could read for hours without getting tired. He read about all kinds of different people, what they thought, loved, hated, yearned for, what made them angry or sad. Sometimes he felt he’d learnt so much about the world in this short time that if he only read just a little more, he might find a clue as to how to rescue his mother.

  The big winds came with the rains as they did every year, and he helped tie down the canvas sheets protecting the goats’ pen and the chook house. He patched the leaky spots in the roof and walls and inspected the state of the tool shed, too, even though Honey hadn’t mentioned it. Treasure’s collection of saws, hammers, and even the good vice on the bench were rusting in the rain. At dawn he began work on the shed’s roof and the small high window that invited water in like a drain, and he was finished by lunch.

  ‘You’re a gift to us, Will,’ said Honey, watching the nimble way he climbed up the walls and swung along the roof.