The Blue Seal of Trinity Cove

by Linda Maree Malcolm

  “Oh, I think I do actually,” Bobby declared, standing her ground. The tentacle around Bobby’s neck tightened, squeezing the air from her throat. The professor sprang forward to try and detach it from her, but with no luck.

  “Come, come, silly red-haired girl,” said the Workhouse Oracle. “You’re going to have the life squeezed out of you before things even get started. Now where would the fun be in that? Come along now and just tell me what I want to know and then we can all get on with our miserable little lives.” The tentacle around Bobby’s neck squeezed even harder so that she felt that every last bit of oxygen was being taken from her; she couldn’t answer even if she wanted to. Feeling as though her face was about to burst, all she could do was make spluttering sounds.

  The tentacle loosened its grip for a second so that she could spurt out a reply to the Oracle: “Even though I can’t imagine what it is you want from me, I stick by what I said before. You can kill me if you want to but you won’t achieve anything that way, will you?” Bobby could only speak in a rasping voice. The Oracle looked as though she would explode with rage. Out from under her skirt, where her tentacles were kept coiled up, came one of the sharp orb-like objects that they had seen before. It whizzed all around the hut and then stopped right in front of Bobby’s face. It span about very fast and Bobby could see that it had a very sharp edge, as sharp as a razor. The tentacle held her in place and the orb touched her skin under her right eye. Had it been left to go ahead and wound her, she would have received a cut reaching from her eye all the way down to her mouth. However, it only nicked her skin so that a tiny trickle of blood ran down to her chin.

  “We’ll tell you anything you want to know, please,” begged the professor. “Just tell me what you want to know and we’ll give you the answer but please, I implore you, take that thing away from her face now and release her. It’s not her that you want but me.”

  “Ah yes, I thought you’d start to see things my way. Good, very good,” hissed the Oracle, sounding very pleased with herself. “It’s quite simple really. You tell me where you keep the ball and I’ll let her go, and also stop tormenting this old Crone.” She waved a hand over her massive stomach as if indicating that the island Crone had indeed been a tasty treat. Bobby found this so revolting that she flailed her arms about in an attempt to hit the Oracle on the face, her fury getting the better of her, but of course there was no chance of making contact.

  “Don’t tell her anything, Professor. Don’t give her what she wants. She means to ruin us all somehow … argghh.” The tentacle tightened even more until Bobby’s face went crimson red and her eyes bulged until they looked as though they would pop right out of their sockets.

  “I don’t need you; you stupid fool of a girl. It would give me great pleasure to kill you right here.” Then Bobby’s face went a shade of blue and she felt as though she would pass out. She was still being held up; her arms dangled at her sides, lifelessly. The professor had been standing by helplessly but now launched an attack on the tentacle. He used his fingers to try and pry it loose but the more he jabbed at it the tighter it became. The tentacle was too strong even for him.

  “What do you want? I’ll give you the crystal ball. You can have it,” the professor pleaded with the Oracle. By now Bobby had fainted. The tentacle uncoiled her and carelessly threw Bobby to the other side of the hut so that she lay like a limp rag doll on the floor. The professor ran to her and turned her over to take her pulse, afraid that she had perished.

  “Get me my ball,” screamed the Oracle, “Get me my ball. Do as I say or you shall both meet with the same destiny.” And with that the Oracle uncoiled two of her tentacles, which floated threateningly toward the professor.

  At that moment Ranku and Tinka and their father, who was the island’s chief, burst into the hut. The children had spears, which they at once held to the throat of the Workhouse Oracle. The chief wielded a long machete-looking weapon through the air, slicing through the two tentacles in an instant at the point closest to the body so that they fell, motionless to the floor.

  The Workhouse Oracle let out a scream that threatened to pierce the eardrums of everyone within and without the hut. They all clapped their hands to their ears to block the reverberating scream.

  “My legs, my legs,” she said over and over again, “my beautiful legs. You’re all going to pay for this.” Ranku and Tinka savagely pressed their spears to her throat in the warrior fashion in which they had been trained, lest she imagined she could wreak more havoc on their friends. But as the blood poured from her open wounds creating river systems in the sandy floor, she seemed gradually to grow very weak and then she faded away altogether and the children, the professor and the chief were stunned to find that the island Crone was suddenly lying in front of them on the bed. She sat up on the bed and looked around seeming more lucid than anyone had seen her for a long time. Ranku and Tinka withdrew their spears and took a step backwards, each as stunned as the other to see their beloved Crone before them.

  “Did I miss the party?” she asked in a croaky, girly voice, quite innocently. They all looked from one to the other; if it hadn’t been for the severity of the occasion there would have been laughter at that point.

  “And which party would that be Oracle?” the professor asked. The door of the hut opened and Sebastian, along with Ranku and Tinka’s family, entered, all surveying the scene and taking in, in an instant, what was before them. They were relieved to see that everyone was okay but rushed to where Bobby was lying. She sat up and looked at all of the faces, and then at the pools of blood in the sand, and next at herself, to make sure it wasn’t her own blood.

  “No, my darling you are okay,” the professor reassured her, “but I must insist that you sit here for a little longer until you get your strength back. You have had quite an ordeal.” He took a blanket from a nearby chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “And you too, dear Crone,” he added just as the Crone was swinging her legs out of the bed to get up. “No, my love, I’m afraid you can’t go getting up just yet. Plenty of rest is what you need now and I’ll not hear another word about it.” He took another blanket and wrapped it around the Crone. He could have wrapped it four or five times around her, she was so tiny and frail.

  “But the party …” She stared blankly at everyone, “I can’t miss it.”

  “Yes, that’s right dear, we are going to have a party and you’re going to be the guest of honour but not right at this instant because we have some other pressing matters that we have to tend to,” the professor spoke tenderly to her as if to a child and pushed her lank, matted hair back from her eyes.

  “Do you remember what’s been happening lately, my dear?” the professor asked as he knelt at her bedside. She looked at all of the faces individually for the longest time and Bobby thought that she might at any moment say something that would help them in their plight against the Workhouse Oracle and their quest to save the island. Or maybe she was about to make a joke. But then she stared at the sandy floor, her face completely blank as if she had no idea who or where she was, and she shook her head. She looked at the professor, blinking as if she was about to argue the point with him, but then her body slumped down and wilted.

  “I’m so tired,” she muttered weakly. The professor took her tiny shoulders and laid her down on the bed. She curled up like a baby and went straight to sleep. Bobby felt her emotions rising up within her. She felt a mixture of sadness and rage and before she knew it, tears were trickling down her face. How ridiculous, she thought to herself, to be crying like a little two year old but then she looked at the others and noticed that she wasn’t the only one who was feeling that way. The other children quickly wiped at their eyes and looked away and even the professor and the chief were biting their lips, blinking fast and swallowing hard to hold in their tears. Sebastian came over and placed Bobby’s hand into his own. He looked at Bobby and puffed out his bottom lip and wiped at his eyes too, and then held his other hand o
ver hers as well. Bobby tried to make sense of the thoughts racing around in her head. Yes, it wasn’t just that she hated to see the beloved Oracle in such a weakened state but also the fact that this peace-loving tribe of people had to now summon up an aggressive spirit from within, to fight for their very lives – it wasn’t a part of their natures and never had been.

  Also, what was to become of the island now? It was only a matter of time before the evil oracle would be back and Bobby knew instinctively that only evil could come of her actually getting her hands on the crystal ball. Goodness only knew what she intended to do with it, but it wouldn’t be good. And at the bottom of all of that, she wished David was here. He would know exactly what to say and how to comfort her. She felt another tear roll down her nose. It was so unlike her to think of a boy this way and she felt her mind reeling at the thought of how much she was changing, but there was no time for that now. She cheered herself with the thought that maybe now, now that David would know just how perilously close Bobby herself had come to being killed and the sad and dangerous state of affairs that existed on the island, he would want to come and help. He would, wouldn’t he?

  Chapter 3

  David Agrees to Help

  Bobby and the professor and the natives were so relieved to be rid of the Workhouse Oracle for the moment, they almost forgot about the curious orbs that had become embedded into each of the trees outside the Crone’s hut. They all watched on with fear as the professor went to the one nearest the hut and fiddled with buttons and dials until it started to make the whirring sound again. It wobbled about as if trying to free itself from the tree.

  “Not a good idea to touch it, Professor,” said the chief and all of the natives shook their heads and cringed, showing just how afraid they were of the orbs.

  “I think in this case you’re probably right, Chief,” the professor replied. “What bothers me though is why they’ve been sent here in the first place. They’re obviously some kind of scout apparatus; they’re here to watch us or to record and report information. Or to annihilate us, but I daresay if that were the case then it would’ve happened by now. I’m not sure which it is, but whatever it is I don’t like the look of them. Chief, I think the wisest thing to do would be to post a guard right here to keep watch at the Crone’s door. If there’s any change with these devices or with the Crone you’re to come and get me straight away, do you understand.” The chief agreed and posted his biggest and strongest-looking man who stood out as a warrior from amongst the people.

  “I expect you feel like a cup of tea now, dear. Do you think you can walk up to the house?” the professor asked Bobby.

  “Yes, I think I will be fine, thanks,” Bobby reassured everyone but privately, she felt as if the life had been squeezed from her, which indeed it almost had. She felt as if she should go to bed even though it was only mid-afternoon. But she wasn’t the type to complain about things; besides, she didn’t want to miss out on anything. Her intuition told her this day was nowhere near over yet.

  Once back at the house, drinking the deliciously sweet honey and lemon tea the professor had made for her, Bobby tried desperately to remember the many questions that had been in her mind to ask him. But her mind felt quite fuzzy and so she allowed herself to just remain quiet and let the tea soothe her.

  “That was quite something you went through Bobby, at the Crone’s hut. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? I wouldn’t want your mother to think I haven’t cared for you …” and as usual the sentence trailed off as if the professor was speaking more to himself or couldn’t trust himself on some topic of utmost importance. Bobby felt too tired to be baffled by this, and let her usual feeling of frustration fade away.

  “Oh, I’m fine,” she lied, grateful that the professor didn’t know her as well as Daphne; her mother would have her off to bed in a jiffy, but she didn’t risk looking into his eyes just in case.

  “Well, well,” he finally said, “what a fine state of affairs this is: the future of the island in grave peril and all of us with not a scrap of an idea of how to save it. And that dratted Workhouse Oracle has some evil plot brewing for all of us, obviously. But just what it is … Our Crone says constantly that it’s to do with David and his heritage.”

  “Really,” Bobby’s ears pricked up, “what exactly do you mean? How has David got anything to do with this?”

  “Well, I can’t say exactly except that she constantly mumbles things like, ‘Ask David, David will know, David and his family know all about this,’ but then she fades right back into her delirium or is overtaken by the Workhouse Oracle or … well you saw her …” The professor blinked heavily again, swallowing slowly and loudly and then looked away.

  “Yes, I know what you mean now that I’ve seen her,” Bobby said and her hand went to her mouth as she gazed out of the window not able to actually see one single thing of the magnificent view before her.

  “There’s only one thing we can do then,” she said suddenly as if thinking out loud. “We must contact David and have him come here. It’s our only hope. David’s very good at logical thinking and he will know just what to do; I know it.” If truth be told she was feeling a little revived and excited at the prospect of seeing David again. She knew that it was ridiculous to expect David to have all of the answers but then she also knew that this whole problem would be halved if he were here to share it.

  “I don’t know Bobby. It’s bad enough that I’ve unwittingly dragged you into this mess and almost lost you too, I might add. But to have another child mixed up in all of this …” the professor said.

  “Number one, Professor, we are not children; we’re young adults and quite capable of making our own decisions,” she replied sternly, without trying to hide her frown. “Number two, I don’t see that you have any other option as it seems that this whole thing is actually about David anyway. How do you think he will feel if we don’t tell him that the Crone has been asking after him? I can tell you right now that he won’t be happy.”

  “Yes, yes, I see your point. Well I suppose we have no choice then,” the professor agreed, “There is a problem though,” he said thoughtfully. “How do we get him here when you have the crystal ball in your backpack?”

  “That’s okay,” Bobby said, “I’ll just go back to Queensborough and fetch him. It’s the only way we can do it.” She very gently took Sebastian’s hands off hers, telling him she would be back soon. Sebastian nodded in agreement.

  Bobby walked up to the door of David’s house and rang the doorbell. His mother opened the door. She looked just as Bobby remembered her: the mass of black curly hair, dark eyes and Mediterranean skin.

  “Who is it, Mum?” Bobby heard David shout down the stairs.

  “It’s your friend, Bobby,” she said back up the stairs. “Come in Bobby and make yourself at home.” Bobby was shown into the lounge room and was startled by how immaculate everything was. The furniture, shelves, ornaments (there were lots of these: very lovely to look at and very expensive-looking), floor coverings, and even the windows were all completely neat and clean. Not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere. Someone must have a full-time job to just clean this house, she thought to herself. Bobby was too shocked to sit down. She didn’t wish to upset the chair by sitting in it. She suddenly felt very grimy and glanced down at her own hands and hair and clothes. Grubby and worn-out was how she felt now. But David’s mother didn’t seem to notice her discomfort and was even more welcoming than before.

  “Have a seat, darling. I’m sure he’ll be here in a minute. Can I get you something to eat or drink? I have sarsparilla and chips, if you like.” Just then, David came bounding into the lounge room and in the nick of time too. Bobby didn’t know how much longer she could get away with just standing there and not sitting and making herself at home. She thought of her own run-down and meandering home, which was a far cry from this one. Parts of her house were so old and wrecked that they were almost to the point of needing to be condemned – she saw in her mind’s eye
the worn-out floorboards that sailed up and down throughout the house and the windows that didn’t quite match the walls and let in draughts – but she loved it anyway. It was her home and not grand at all but it was homely and comfortable and she felt at home there. She saw at once just how different David and she really were and for some reason she couldn’t understand, that made her feel a little sad.

  “Hello,” David said with a wide grin on his face. “How are you?” He took Bobby by the shoulders and kissed into the air at either side of her head. Bobby didn’t draw back this time even though she immediately wanted to. By now she had realised that this was the custom for Italians and David would be thought of as rude to not greet in this way. But she still blushed slightly and then thought of herself as silly for having that reaction. He was her cousin after all.

  “Oh, I’m well, thanks,” she managed to get out. “Any chance of a walk? I have some things I need to talk to you about.”

  “Yeah, sure,” David answered. They each said their good-byes to Mrs Game and walked towards the town and the store from which they bought their milk-shakes.

  “I’ve come back to get you, David. Things on the island are worse than what we thought.” Bobby began to tell him the story of all of the recent happenings on the island.

  “And the worse thing is that if something isn’t done very soon the Crone is sure to die. You should see her; how she’s even holding onto her life is beyond me. She’s literally wasting away.”

  “I can’t believe the Workhouse Oracle has this much power over her,” David said and he was obviously shocked to hear this news. “Where does she get her power from, and what does she want with the crystal ball, and what does this all have to do with my heritage?” David asked.