by Perrin Briar
“So, no treehouse?” Liz said.
“Not until we figure out a way to get the panels up here without them killing themselves,” Ernest said. “Unless you’d prefer a home with two fewer members.”
“That depends on the quality of the house,” Liz said.
“I have some ideas on how to make transporting these things a little less taxing,” Ernest said.
“Thanks… for telling us them… before we did any real… hard work,” Fritz said.
Chapter Forty-Three
“THERE’S AN easier, faster way to get to the wreckage and back,” Ernest said, sweeping his arm to take in the river before them. “At the moment we have to trek through the jungle, but if we build a short bridge across this river we won’t have to. We can cut out the jungle section and proceed directly up the incline.”
“A bridge?” Bill said. “It’ll take longer to build it than the time it saves us.”
“No it won’t,” Ernest said. “We can build a bridge quickly, and we’ll save two hours on each load.”
“And how will we build this bridge of yours?” Bill said.
“We’ll use the bamboo trees,” Ernest said. “The largest ones are long enough to lay directly across the river from one bank to the other. Once we have them down we can secure them.”
“And they’ll hold our weight?” Fritz said.
“Easily,” Ernest said. “Bamboo is one of the strongest natural materials in the world.”
“How long do you think it will take us to build?” Bill said.
“I don’t know,” Ernest said. “A day. A day and a half, at most.”
Bill thought for a long moment, and then nodded.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s build it.”
The Flowers chopped down a clutch of bamboo trees, their trunks giving way easily to the axes. They fell and made a hollow koong noise.
“Are you sure these things are strong?” Fritz said.
“They take weight extremely well,” Ernest said. “Chopping, not so much.”
They laid the bamboo poles out flat and lashed them together. They stood them up on end and pushed them over. The bridge wavered in the wind a moment, as if considering falling back toward them, when the wind abated and it fell forward onto the opposite riverbank.
“I suppose we’d best get across,” Bill said.
Bill and Fritz put their harnesses on and pulled the empty cart behind them. The bamboo canes creaked beneath them, but didn’t seem to suffer with their weight.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Fritz said.
“Say that after we cross with a fully-loaded cart,” Bill said.
They loaded the cart with items from the wreckage and trundled back to the bridge. Bill looked down at the raging white rapids below.
“Well,” he said. “Here goes nothing.”
Bill and Fritz stepped onto the bridge first. The bamboo creaked beneath their feet under the cart’s weight. Fritz looked at Bill with apprehension.
“Keep going,” Bill said.
The thick bamboo poles bent as the cart’s weight approached the middle of the bridge, and then began to straighten out again as they pulled the cart up onto the opposite bank.
“Yes,” Fritz said, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. “Piece of cake. But this still doesn’t help us with the steep incline.” He turned to Ernest. “Put your big brain onto solving that problem.”
“I have,” Ernest said. “We’re going to need a pack animal to pull the carts.”
“I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before,” Fritz said, rolling his eyes. “Oh no, wait. We did. I suppose we could just pop into the local zoo and ask if they wouldn’t mind us using their horses for a while.”
“We don’t need a zoo,” Ernest said. “We’ve got a jungle.”
“That’s great,” Bill said. “But there aren’t many pack animals, so far as I can tell.”
“Not many,” Ernest said, nodding. “But I did see one.”
Bill and Fritz stopped in their tracks.
“That’s not a nice way to refer to us,” Fritz said.
“I’m not referring to you,” Ernest said.
“What were you referring to?” Bill said.
Chapter Forty-Four
IT WAS GRAZING in the clearing, beneath the greenish tint cast by the leafy folds of the jungle canopy. With its hooves it was the last creature any of them would have expected to have resided in the dense jungle.
All the donkey’s strengths would count against it here: the dense foliage making it difficult to recognise large predators, the narrow confines of the trees limiting its agility, and the strength and speed it had in wide open spaces would count for nothing.
The donkey was a squat creature with legs that were too short, and a head that was too large. It certainly wasn’t a poster child of its species. But it was sturdy and strong, with a cheeky arrogant set to its eyes. It was the most beautiful creature Bill and Fritz had ever seen. It was their ticket out of their backbreaking labour.
“How do you suppose it got here?” Fritz said, keeping his head tucked low under the bluff of hill they were hiding behind.
“It might have always been here,” Bill said. “There might be a herd of them. If there are no large natural predators there’s no reason why they couldn’t flourish. Or it might have washed ashore here the same way we did.”
“How do we catch it?” Fritz said.
“I saw him the other day, sniffing around Mother’s allotment,” Ernest said. “I think he likes the smell of carrots. Maybe we can use them to lure him into a trap?”
The donkey looked up in the Flowers’ direction, long ears erect, front leg off the ground and hooked, ready to make the first step for a dash into the foliage. There was a snap behind him, and he physically jumped. He took off into the jungle.
“Jumpy fellow, isn’t he?” Bill said.
“With us around can you blame him?” Fritz said.
“How will we capture him?” Bill said, scratching the stubble on his chin with a thumb.
“We could pile carrots in the clearing and wait for him to come,” Jack said.
“You saw how jumpy he was,” Bill said. “He’d be out of here before we ever got near him.”
“We could block off the exits,” Ernest said.
“Stand your ground with a runaway donkey coming at you?” Bill said. “A good way to get injured.”
“I could sit and wait in the trees,” Jack said. “He’d never see me.”
Bill shook his head.
“I don’t want you on your own,” he said.
“I wouldn’t be alone,” Jack said. “I’ll have Nips with me.”
“Then my fears are for nothing,” Bill said. “No, we’ll think of another way for us to catch him. Something where none of us have to be present. A trap – like the one we use to catch the rabbits.”
“A rabbit and a donkey are very different creatures,” Ernest said.
“Really?” Fritz said. “You mean they’re not related? That’s strange.”
“A donkey could kick the trap to pieces,” Ernest said, ignoring Fritz.
“Then we’ll have to figure out a way so he can’t do that,” Bill said.
“We could build a trap just big enough for him to fit inside,” Ernest said. “That way he’ll get caught but he won’t be able to struggle much, or kick. But it’ll also increase the chances of the trap failing. And if it fails once he might be hesitant about entering the trap again a second time. Horses aren’t stupid.”
“He’s not a horse,” Bill said. “He’s a donkey.”
“Have you ever seen a dead donkey?” Ernest said.
“What?” Fritz said.
“Ernest is just trying to be clever,” Bill said.
“Trying and succeeding!” Ernest said.
“You’re such a nerd,” Fritz said.
“I take that as a compliment,” Ernest said.
“You shouldn’t,” Fritz said.
“Until we catch him Fritz and I will be his replacement,” Bill said.
“Yippee,” Fritz said flatly. “You might not have ever seen a dead donkey before, but if we don’t catch him soon, you’re all going to have a dead Fritz on your hands.”
Chapter Forty-Five
NEITHER BILL nor Fritz wore their shirts. What little wind there was they wanted to feel on their bare skin. The sun had beaten their bodies into a bronze-tan colour, their enforced diet stripping away body fat, leaving them lean with toned physiques, which now tensed and bristled against their harness as they pulled the sled up the steep incline. They were a metre from the top.
Snap!
Bill jolted forward, and then bounced back in an effort to regain balance.
Snap!
The second vine connected to Bill’s harness broke. The sled skidded to one side, and then down the incline, dragging Fritz backwards with it. He kept his footing, but his shoes slid across the hard stony earth. He leaned forward, pressing his weight forward. He roared, a loud sound that echoed over the entire island, but he held the sled in place, slipping an inch, and then stopping. The cords in his body stood out like he were a puppet on strings, his muscles hard and tense.
“Cut the vines!” Bill shouted to Ernest, who ran forward and picked up a sharp flint stone from the ground.
“No!” Fritz said. “Don’t you dare!”
“But Dad said-” Ernest said.
“Don’t!” Fritz said. “We’re… almost… there!”
Fritz roared with the heart and soul of a dozen men and took a step forward, his body bent over parallel to the ground, the cart pulling back on him.
“The vines are going to snap!” Ernest said.
“Let them!” Fritz said, and took another step forward.
Bill got to his feet and moved behind the cart. He braced the weight, giving Fritz a reprieve with each step he took. Ernest joined him. Fritz’s body shook with the effort, but he drew up to the top of the hill. He dragged himself along the flat of the clearing, bringing the cart up inch by inch, until the flatbed rose and then lowered to the clearing floor.
Bill wiped his forehead clear of sweat. He took his hat off and fanned his eldest with it as he panted for air.
“Water,” Fritz gasped. “Water.”
Ernest took off at a run to retrieve it.
“You have a real problem letting things go, don’t you?” Bill said.
“What can I say?” Fritz said in a wheezy voice. “I’m a Flower.”
He wheezed a rasping laugh.
“We have got to get that donkey,” he said.
Chapter Forty-Six
BILL AND the boys crawled on their forearms to the ledge.
The donkey stood twenty feet away, swishing his tail and watching as a troop of monkeys demolished a pile of vegetables inside a large cage. They didn’t even go inside the cage – they just reached in through the bars and took the food.
“Great,” Bill said.
Fritz leaned his forehead against his arms.
“We need to catch him soon,” he said. “I’m not sure how much longer I can work like this.”
“You with your young back and muscles?” Bill said. “Spare a thought for your poor old Pa.”
“I’d be dead already by now if I were you,” Fritz said.
“I might be if we keep working like this much longer,” Bill said.
The donkey turned and trotted away into the jungle. The Flowers descended the hill to the cage. They waved the monkeys away. The monkeys growled, but having had their fill put up little resistance.
“We’ll have to reset the trap,” Bill said. “Only this time…”
He snapped some broad leaves off a plant and laid them over the cage. The boys harvested more foliage, until the frame was covered top to bottom.
“Come on,” Bill said, slapping Fritz on the back. “We’re on draft horse duty.”
Fritz hung his head.
“Neigh,” he said.
Chapter Forty-Seven
THE FLOWERS peeked over the short bluff of hill at the clearing below. The cage was still covered, the clearing empty.
“Is the cage door shut?” Bill said.
“No,” Ernest said. “It’s still open.”
“Maybe he’s on a different part of the island today,” Bill said. “Doesn’t look like we’ll be taking it easy today, Fritz.”
Fritz groaned. The Flowers turned away.
Clip clop.
“Did you hear that?” Ernest said.
“The cracking sound?” Fritz said. “It was my spirit breaking.”
“No,” Ernest said. “I think it came from inside the cage.”
“If this is a joke it’s not funny,” Fritz said.
Clip clop.
The Flowers stared at the cage.
“Did that come from inside the cage?” Fritz said.
“That’s what I just said,” Ernest said.
There was a contented munching sound, and then something solid striking the cage floor.
“Is he inside?” Bill said.
“We covered the cage over,” Jack said. “We can’t see what’s inside.”
“But the door hasn’t closed?” Bill said.
“Maybe he hasn’t stepped on the lever yet,” Ernest said.
“Or it’s broken,” Fritz said.
“We have to close the door!” Bill said.
“I can do it,” Jack said, pushing himself up.
“No,” Bill said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I can climb this tree, get onto the cage’s roof and push the door closed,” Jack said. “Easy.”
“No,” Bill said. “He’ll be startled. He might thrash and kick, and you’ll be in harm’s way.”
“I can get off quickly-” Jack said.
“We’ll do it together,” Bill said. “We’ll surround the cage and wait with our leashes for him to finish. When he backs out, we’ll have him.”
“He’ll be onto us before we even get into position,” Ernest said.
The boys looked at their father expectantly.
“Okay,” Bill said. “Okay. Jack, do it. But be careful.”
Jack climbed the tree with ease and grace, and then crawled along the outstretched limb that hung over the cage. He lowered himself down onto the roof very, very slowly. He let go of the branch, which snapped back into place, raining down twigs and other detritus onto the leaf-covered cage.
The munching in the cage stopped, and Bill could almost imagine the creature inside peering up at the cage ceiling. Jack froze, not moving a muscle. The munching resumed.
Jack edged toward the cage door. It stood erect. Jack leaned his weight on it, pressing down. The door didn’t move.
“He can’t close it,” Fritz said. “He’s not strong enough. We need to get out there.”
“No,” Bill said. “Wait.”
The cage door squealed as Jack forced it down. It slid two feet, but was still open. The animal inside, spooked, backed into the door, and then panicked when he felt the cage door against the back of his legs. He kicked, rocking the cage.
The broad leaves fell off the frame, peeling back like an orange skin, revealing the donkey’s panic-stricken expression.
“I thought he couldn’t kick?” Fritz said.
“He must be smaller than we calculated,” Ernest said.
Bill ran out into the clearing toward the cage, which rocked again under the donkey’s powerful thrusts. Jack kept pressing his weight down on the door, but it still wouldn’t budge.
The donkey kicked again. The whole cage rocked back. Jack fell forward, over the door and onto the ground, in front of the cage opening. Another kick and the door snapped off its hinges and flew aside. The donkey backed out of the cage.
Jack curled up into a ball, hugging Nips close. The donkey backed into him. He sank down onto his front legs, winding his back legs up to kick.
Bill seized the donkey by the mane and pulled it to one side, knockin
g it off balance, sending its kick astray. The donkey backed up, tossing its head, and reared up to strike Bill in the face.
But Fritz was there, armed with a noose of vines that he threw over the donkey’s muzzle and neck. All thoughts of fighting seeped out of the donkey then. He turned to run. He moved so fast Fritz was knocked off his feet and slammed into the ground, losing his grip.
“Dad!” Fritz shouted. “He’s going to get away!”
“Oh no he won’t!” Bill said, leaping for the donkey.
Bill landed on the vine. He grabbed for it, but it slipped through his hands. The donkey stumbled. Bill’s hand snapped out, more out of reflex than conscious effort. He seized the vine and held firm.
The donkey dragged Bill along the ground, the jutting roots tearing at his clothes and cutting his face. Bill shifted position and dug his heels into the jungle floor. The donkey didn’t stop, instead veering to the right through a thick bush. Bill held on, but he knew he couldn’t take much more.
A tree reared up fast. The donkey passed it. Bill said a prayer and then threw himself to the other side of it. The vine pulled tight. The donkey came to an abrupt stop, swinging around the tree. Bill stood beside the donkey now, which pulled away from him and whinnied.
“Dad! Let go!” Fritz shouted.
“No! I’m not working like a dog any longer!” Bill said. “Come give me a hand!”
Fritz ran toward him and grabbed the vine behind his father, and together they held on tight as the donkey spun them around in an effortless circle.
Sweat dripped off Bill and Fritz’s faces and ran down their necks. The donkey, puffing and panting with exertion, began to lose power and finally it flopped down onto the ground, its legs folded underneath it.
“Is… Is that it?” Bill said, sweat dripping down his face, body ravaged with pain. “Is… Is that all… all you’ve got?” He turned to Fritz. “Keep hold of the vine in case he tries to pull a fast one.”
Fritz wrapped the vine around his hands, hands that had grown tough and strong with back breaking labour. Bill got to his feet, legs shaking with the effort. He hitched up his trousers that had grown slack in recent weeks, and approached the donkey.
