CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
After mass the raven remained by the organ while Father Cadman went outside to greet all the patrons and accept their praise on the raven’s behalf. The raven could not face that kind of attention. He didn’t want foreign hands touching and prodding at him, and he couldn’t handle people talking to him in baby voices, as though he had no idea what they were actually saying.
No, he would just stay here, in the little patch of brilliance he had created, and draw it out a while longer, and revel in his own success.
Except some fans will find their way in, no matter what. The raven realised he was not alone when he caught a whiff of something distinctly musky, with just a touch of spice.
It was the man from the tree, coming up the altar steps before him.
No unnatural redness stuck to him now. No hunched shoulders, no feverish eyes; only something about the way he held his chin that said here was a man who had seen what was on the other side.
‘Hello there,’ said the man. ‘I’m pleased to see you again.’
The raven kept his beak shut.
‘It’s okay,’ the man said. ‘You can talk to me. I won’t tell anyone. I just wanted to say that was some fine singing – or tweeting, or crooning, or whatever you want to call it – that you just did. Marvellous. I haven’t heard anything like it, not in all my years.’
The raven nodded but kept it professional. He had saved this man’s life, and the man obviously thought that it warranted intimacy. But the raven no longer wanted to play God.
‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I appreciate that. Looks like you haven’t done so bad yourself.’
‘Oh yes,’ said the man. ‘I’m quite fine, now. In fact, I’m great. Got a few tips from this bird up in a tree. Brought me around to a new way of seeing things. Everything looks greater from above, if you know what I mean.’ He tipped the raven a wink.
The raven nodded. ‘And what about your armpits? How have they been coping?’
‘Much better,’ said the man. ‘Do you want to smell?’
The raven declined.
‘No problem,’ said the man. ‘I’ve had a career change as well. I’m going to become a pilot. Help others to fly, see what I’ve seen.’
‘Well, isn’t that nice,’ said the pigeon, struggling to look impressed.
‘It’s beautiful, up there,’ the man said.
‘Yes,’ said the raven, ‘I know. As long as you stay away from the pigeons.’
The man chuckled.
‘Believe me, it’s not a joke.’
‘Okay,’ said the man. ‘Well, I’ll leave you alone. Just wanted to formally extend my thanks. You changed my life, you know.’
‘My pleasure,’ said the raven. ‘Just make sure to give me credit if you ever want to pass on my philosophy. I’ve got to make a living somehow.’
The man chuckled again.
‘That wasn’t a joke, either,’ said the raven.
‘You’re a special one,’ said the man. ‘I knew it from the start.’
The raven couldn’t really argue with what was obviously the truth, so he thanked the man again and sent him on his way.
Then it was just him again, alone in the church.
He looked all around – at every brick and pew, at every bit of carpet and curtain, at the rafter where he’d sat countless times. And he commended himself on his impeccable taste at choosing a home. He looked at the organ and loved every inch of it for the hymns it had given him. He looked outside and saw all his adoring fans, and he remembered what the scarecrow had said about having to give devotions before you got devotions back.
And then he looked down at his own reflection in the varnished wood. And he saw there, the greatest truth of all – that he was, indeed, a very handsome bird.
He knew, of course, that it wasn’t the most important. But – and the weatherhen would agree – it certainly didn’t hurt.
At any rate, he had more going for him than the pigeon.
This first book has been a dream since kindy, when I quite happily sat in the reading corner and read all throughout lunch while everyone else was playing. Now it’s happened and I feel absolutely blessed.
Thanks foremost to the team at Random House – I’ve been so lucky that everything has been so collaborative and easy. Zoe and Cristina’s enthusiasm has been contagious and I’ve loved every step. Thanks to Tony for his beautiful efforts with the cover.
My agent, Jacinta di Mase, for believing in my strange little book. I am so pleased to have her onside.
Raven went through a few guises before becoming a full-length novel – thanks to everyone who supported it in some form or another. Special thanks to Inga Simpson, my mentor in 2010/2011, who helped me to get it in shape and gave me the confidence to send it out.
To family and friends who have given encouragement and support – especially my Maryboo, whose enthusiasm and ‘my friend is a published author’ name-dropping never gets old.
To those special school teachers, especially Slevs, who made writing a pleasure.
To Sister T – a great friend, fantastic boss, and bookseller extraordinaire. Her support has been amazing and I am so happy to be selling my books in her store.
To my own talented brother, who made writing about Todd and Mackenzie so easy. I hope one day you can illustrate my books.
To all the children’s authors whose classic, fantastic worlds have inspired and moved me to create my own.
And to the raven who I first saw sitting up on the belltower of my own church, cutting such a proud figure. I knew there had to be a story about you. I’m so glad I wrote it.
Samantha-Ellen Bound has always been a reader and writer, but it wasn’t until she discovered the ‘children’s classics’ shelves at her university library that she was inspired to create worlds as brilliant as those she read about.
Her love for books has seen her complete a Diploma in Publishing and Editing, work in education and currently work as a children’s bookseller. She has both published and won prizes for her short stories.
Sam-Ellen grew up in Tasmania but now lives in Melbourne. She loves many things befitting of a children’s author, including Cabbage Patch Dolls, mermaids, folklore and theatre (make-believe at its best!). She is determined one day all these things will find their way into her books!
One of Sam-Ellen’s favourite things is when a children’s book is so perfect it makes you cry. She believes imagination is one of the most important things in the world. The raven stole many of her best lines.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
What the Raven Saw
Published by Woolshed Press 2013
Copyright © Samantha-Ellen Bound 2013
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Woolshed Press book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW, 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at www.randomhouse.com.au/offices
First published by Woolshed Press in 2013
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Bound, Samantha-Ellen
Title: What the raven saw [electronic resource]/Samantha-Ellen Bound
ISBN: 978 1 74275 736 0 (ebook)
Subjects: Ravens – Juvenile fiction<
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Dewey Number: A823.4
Cover and internal artwork by Tony Flowers
Cover artwork photographed by Andreas Greth
Cover design by Astred Hicks, designcherry
Internal design, typesetting and eBook production Midland Typesetters, Australia
Words from ‘I’ll Fly Away’ © Copyright 1932 in ‘Wonderful Message’ by Harford Music Co. Renewed 1960 by Albert E. Brumley & Sons/SESAC (admin by ClearBox Rights). All rights reserved. Used by permission.
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What the Raven Saw Page 16
