Ariel, Zed and the Secret of Life

by Anna Fienberg

  ‘Hullo Mr Goodshot.’ Zed leapt up and they shook hands.

  When they were both seated, Goodshot brought out a gift wrapped in gold paper. ‘Just a little something to help you on your way,’ he said and sat back in his chair to watch.

  Zed unwrapped the present. It was a book called What They Don’t Teach You at Business School. It had five hundred pages.

  ‘That oughta keep you off the streets, ha ha!’ cried Goodshot. He spied the open notebook on the table. ‘But I see you’re already working on something.’

  Zed hastily shut his book. ‘Oh no, it’s just a kind of diary. I keep track of things that way.’

  ‘Good idea,’ nodded Goodshot. ‘Jogs the old memory box.’

  When Miss Heckle came they ordered baked snapper with hollandaise sauce, and prawn cocktail for entree.

  Goodshot talked about rising inflation, import tax and how to open a Swiss bank account until the dessert arrived. It was chocolate mousse.

  ‘Well, young man, I asked you here today to get your ideas on something.’

  ‘Yes?’ said Zed. His chest puffed out with pride. Here it comes, he thought.

  ‘What this island needs is a central attraction,’ began Goodshot. ‘Something that makes it different from any other island, am I right?’

  ‘Yes, but there’s already Opal Beach and the fantastic rainforest, and horses and—’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, anyone can write a travel brochure,’ Goodshot waved his hand in the air. ‘The Caribbean and the Pacific are full of palm trees too. No, what we need is something special, something magic, to make people flock here. You with me?’

  Zed nodded. His cheeks started to feel warm. On second thoughts he didn’t know that he’d want hundreds of people crawling over the Island in bermuda shorts with cameras slung round their necks.

  ‘Right. Now I’ve heard talk that there’s some kind of elixir on this island. This stuff’ll heal anything, they say, and that’s enough reason to make anyone pack their bags and come. I’m talking eternal life here! Have you ever heard of a better business opportunity than that?’

  Zed looked down at his plate. The cream on his mousse had melted, forming a puddle on the top. Zed’s cheeks were on fire all the way up to his ears.

  ‘Well boy?’ Goodshot whispered, looking around him.

  ‘Umm,’ said Zed. ‘I don’t know anything about this elixir, Mr Goodshot. It’s a secret of the Island.’

  Goodshot looked at Zed shrewdly. ‘How come they told me about it then, huh? I know it’s on the south side in a cave, but I don’t know how to get into it. There’s this damn animal that guards it. Puts out your light, and you can’t see a damn thing. I got to know the way in. And that’s what I’d like you to tell me, got it?’

  Zed crossed and uncrossed his ankles under the table.

  ‘We’ll split the business seventy thirty, okay?’

  Zed was silent.

  ‘All right, you drive a hard bargain. Sixty forty and I can’t go no further. I’m the one that’ll have to organise it all—the marketing strategy, the air flights, the hotels. So, what do you say?’

  ‘Listen, sir,’ Zed took a deep breath and Goodshot’s tone, ‘that elixir is not there to make a fortune, it’s a gift to the Island, and it’s been around for hundreds of years. You can’t buy it or sell it, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’

  ‘Who’ve you been talking to—Miss Antenna Ears? Has she got a monopoly on it already? Listen, boy, you gotta think with your own head. You’re alone in this world, just like me. And you gotta look after Number One.’

  ‘I’m not alone, and I’m not like you,’ Zed’s voice was cold now. He didn’t care any more what Goodshot thought of him.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t say you were exactly surrounded by a loving family and well wishers, would you? And with a friend like Ariel, who needs enemies, ha ha! Especially after what she told me the other day—I’d watch my step with her if I were you. She’s as jealous as hell.’ He smiled, and lit up a cigar.

  ‘If you’re talking about Ariel, I can’t imagine her telling you anything,’ Zed said icily.

  ‘Look, Zed, I’m only telling you this for your own good. You gotta know who your real friends are in this world. And you gotta prepare for your future. No-one else is going to help you.’ He puffed on his cigar. It made Zed feel sick.

  ‘Ariel told me that your mother—she’s a journalist, right?—told her mother that she needed a place to leave you while she went away.’

  ‘Yes, so what? I know that.’

  ‘Thing is, Zed—well how can I put it—your mother wanted to find somewhere permanent. See, she’s not coming back for you. Never. Well, try to see it from her point of view. She doesn’t want a millstone round her neck, not with her career, am I right?’

  Zed had turned as pale as the cream melting on his mousse. His ears buzzed as if there were an insect trapped inside.

  ‘Anyhow, that’s what Ariel told me,’ Goodshot went on, ‘and she ought to know, what with her antenna ears, ha ha! She reckons your mother said you are—how did she put it?—“the most depressing boy that ever lived”. And Ariel agreed! Nice thing to say about a friend, right? Can’t see it myself, always said you had a lot of get-up-and-go. So you see, boy, you’re on your own, and you gotta start looking after you-know-who. No-one else will. But Daniel Goodshot is willing to give you the start you need. Trust me!’

  Zed couldn’t go on looking at his dessert any longer. He stumbled to his feet. He was going to throw up any minute now. Maybe it was the prawns. Raw prawns. Raw deal. That’s the kind of deal he always got. Erk…he pictured raw prawns floating on a plate, all slimy and grey and veiny. He put his hand over his mouth.

  ‘’Scuse me,’ he mumbled and dashed inside the restaurant. He saw a door marked ‘Gentlemen’ and just made it to the bowl.

  ‘Damn,’ said Goodshot and leaned across the table for the ash tray. As he stubbed out his cigar he noticed Zed’s notebook.

  He flipped through the Alice pages with a frown. Then he came to the first entry of NZ. He sneered, his lip lifting like his tiger’s. What an imagination this boy had! He read on, avidly, looking up every couple of pages for Zed’s return. And then he came to the diary bit he was looking for.

  ‘… The Elixir can heal any disease or injury, a fact that cheered me up a lot since I grazed my knee which had begun to fester from the first day I arrived. Pus was forming…’ blah blah blah, Goodshot’s eyes travelled down the page. Who wanted to read about the boy’s pus?

  ‘…But it seems to have healed by itself. Perhaps it’s the positive influence of NZ. He wouldn’t stand for a festering leg…’ Blah blah blah. Goodshot flipped the page. Ah, here it was. ‘… a giant bat guards the cave of the Elixir. It will extinguish the light of anyone who enters unless the fruit called persimmon is brought. I suppose it’s like a kind of password. I think it was very clever of Merlin to put that in. You wouldn’t want just anyone going in there. Most of the people on the Island keep some persimmon in their houses, in case of emergency. It must be like having antibiotics in your bathroom cupboard. Only better. I wish I could get some Elixir, but it must only be used for special occasions. NZ says I don’t need it. But one day NZ will travel to the south side and explore the awesome cliffs…’ Blah blah blah.

  Goodshot sat back in his chair and smiled. What a blabbermouth that boy was. Carefully he closed the book. He wrote out a cheque and left it on his plate amongst the crumbs. Then he got up and walked out the door without even looking once behind him.

  Zed sat on the toilet seat and wiped his mouth with a paper towel. He was shivery and his face was as white as the basin. But after all that heaving he no longer felt sick. Just weak as a puppy. He would have liked to go to sleep in someone’s arms.

  The thought made his eyes prickle and he clenched his teeth. Could Ariel really have said that? Could his mother really be so—so—. Well, she sure had said that about his being depressing. And how else could Goodshot have kno
wn that? Zed felt as if a stone had dropped in his stomach. Imagine if it was true, imagine if he never saw his mother again. He walked quickly toward the door, away from the thought and out to the balcony.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. Goodshot had gone, without saying goodbye. After dropping a bombshell like that. What a rat-fink! Zed made his hand into a fist. He felt as if his body was on fire. He imagined Goodshot clinging by his fingers over the edge of a cliff. Zed would step on them in his hobnail boots, one by one, until Goodshot slipped and fell splat! onto the rocks below. Bastard!

  He looked down at his shirt. There was a splotch of hollandaise sauce on the pocket and sweat marks all down the sides. Elegantly casual, what a laugh. He was just a rag that people picked up and dropped when they felt like it.

  He walked out of the restaurant and hopped on his bike. I could go and jump off a cliff, he thought, and no-one would give a hoot in hell. No-one except NZ.

  16. REVELATIONS

  ARIEL WATCHED THE SHADOWS lengthen across the garden. Birds screeched in the trees, flying up like handfuls of confetti. They made a black V against the sky as dusk fell and they headed for home.

  And that was where Zed should be. Ariel looked at her watch again. He knew he had to be home by six. That was when Bertha dished up, and she couldn’t stand them being late.

  Ariel stood up and stretched under the apple tree. Her fingers touched something soft. Mr Jones squealed and flipped down through the branches, hanging by his tail like a yo-yo.

  ‘You’re worried, too, aren’t you Jonesy?’ said Ariel as he flopped onto her shoulder. He chattered in her ear and covered his face. ‘That awful Goodshot, I bet he’s gone and said something to Zed. Something nasty. Maybe he kidnapped him!’

  Just then Bertha called through the door.

  ‘Where’s the young whuffler, Zed? Doesn’t he want his dinner, or what?’

  Ariel came in. ‘I don’t know, Bertha. I’m worried about him. He went out for lunch with that horrible Goodshot man, and I haven’t seen him since. But he’s usually here at six, isn’t he?’

  ‘Driven by hunger pangs. All whufflers are. Hmm, Goodshot. The one with the smarmy smile. Well, if Zed’s with him, an adult I mean to say, then he’s probably all right. He’s just having too good a time, and like all whufflers he’s forgotten about them that’s waiting at home.’

  ‘But can you imagine anyone having a good time with Goodshot? It’d be like playing with a crocodile.’

  ‘Let’s start our dinner, anyway. It will take your mind off it. Food is a great comfort.’

  They sat down at the kitchen table. The dim room with its empty chairs seemed even gloomier without Zed.

  Suddenly the door banged and Zed stumbled in. His face was crimson and strands of hair were plastered to his forehead with sweat. His green shirt had turned a dark jade colour, and was dripping.

  ‘Ooh, what a pong!’ cried Bertha. ‘Been running around having a good time all afternoon, eh? Go and wash that face before you sit down at my table. You look like a peeled beetroot. Now we’ll have to wait I suppose.’

  Zed looked wildly from Ariel to Bertha. Then he turned on his heel and flung up the stairs. In a few minutes he returned in a blue T shirt, still looking just as flushed.

  All through dinner he didn’t say a word. Ariel chatted on about her afternoon and Bertha told them about the old days when the Shoe was full of children. Finally, they were finished.

  As Bertha cleared away the plates she turned to Zed and her eyes softened. ‘Good to have you home and safe. Don’t fret yourself, whatever it is, it’ll pass. Always does,’ and she trundled off to bed.

  Zed buried his head on his arms at the table. Ariel waited, biting her lip. She touched his arm and suddenly he flicked her off, leaping up like a spring.

  ‘Why don’t you leave me alone, you big-eared brat! Bug off!’

  Ariel jumped back in shock. ‘What are you yelling at me for? I haven’t done anything. And leave my ears out of it! I’ve been worrying about you, you big loon!’

  Zed sneered. ‘Oh yeah, real worried I’m sure. Just like you’re worried about poor me being dumped by my mother, eh? You knew she wasn’t coming back, didn’t you? A big joke, ha ha!’

  ‘Did Goodshot say that? That she wasn’t coming back? He’s ridiculous! It’s not true, you can’t believe that!’

  ‘Well you told him so.’

  ‘I did not!’

  ‘It’s no use lying, Ariel. How did he know about my mother saying I’m so “depressing”? Who else could have told him that loving comment—it’s not the sort of thing a normal mother would say about her child, for God’s sake.’

  ‘I—I don’t know! But it certainly wasn’t me. And anyway, even Electra calls you her favourite pessimist. He could have guessed—’

  ‘Oh great, so now everyone thinks I’m depressing.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that! Look, Goodshot has this knack, this power of seeing into people’s heads. He finds their most vulnerable point, and goes for it. Can’t you see? Listen, Zed,’ Ariel grabbed his arm, ‘listen, will you? He said some nasty things to me, too. About my mother. He said she wanted me to change, that I was a problem, and that’s why she hadn’t written a letter.’

  ‘Well, you got a letter, didn’t you. Now just get out, leave me alone, I hate looking at your stupid face!’

  ‘You’re the one that’s stupid. You’ll feel sorry for yourself till the day you die. You can’t ever see past your stupid mother!’ Ariel ran out of the kitchen.

  Zed put his head in his hands. His heart was banging with rage. He thought of Goodshot and the stubbed-out cigar floating in the ashtray. He thought of Ariel popping up from that wave, her hair slicked back and her ears sticking out, proud as jug handles. His heart lurched. God, he even felt fond of her ears. Maybe it was stupid to believe someone like Goodshot—someone who just left you alone with his crumbs and dead cigar. Ariel had been much more of a friend, since the beginning really, but he’d always been too miserable to enjoy her. Anyway, it didn’t matter now—as usual he’d gone and destroyed something good, just when he’d found it. Now she’d probably ignore him, write him off as a misery guts with no backbone—or loyalty. He closed his eyes. He felt like an old person, tired and angry, and he couldn’t keep anything straight. His mother was right. He was downright depressing.

  He got up and headed for the stairs. He wouldn’t clean his teeth or have a shower—who cared if his teeth rotted or he smelled bad? He kicked his toe on purpose against the stair. ‘Serves you right,’ he told it, wincing.

  He flung open his bedroom door and switched on the light. There, sitting on his bed with Mr Jones in her lap, was Ariel.

  She grinned at him. ‘Well, I couldn’t go to sleep with you on the verge of suicide next door.’ She put the sleepy monkey into Zed’s arms. ‘Just think, what would Mr Jones do without you? He’d probably age ten years overnight, and think how wrinkly he’d be then!’

  Zed laughed and a flood of relief washed over him. He hugged Mr Jones and laughed again and sat down next to Ariel.

  ‘And you can shut up about my ears,’ said Ariel, pulling her hair over them.

  ‘I like your ears,’ said Zed. ‘They give you loads of character. They’re cheeky.’

  ‘Cheeky eh?’ said Ariel, surprised. ‘As in cute cheeky?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Zed. ‘Dead set cheeky.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It’s funny how you grow fond of certain things about a person that, well, you might not have particularly noticed before.’

  ‘You didn’t like my ears before?’

  ‘No—that is, they just didn’t mean anything to me.’ Zed reddened and clenched his jaw. ‘Now they, I mean you do.’ This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, except for the time he’d got lost in King William Street and he’d had to put on dark glasses and find a white stick to beg for his lunch.

  ‘What about my teeth then?’ said Ariel, staring hard at the bedspread.

  ‘What about th
em?’

  ‘They’re 1.3 centimetres. They ruin my life.’

  Zed looked at Ariel. ‘I can’t see anything wrong with them. Plenty of people would die for healthy strong fangs like yours. Vampires, for instance.’

  ‘Very funny,’ said Ariel. ‘If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a person taking advantage of another person in her weak moment.’

  Zed held up his hand. ‘I was only joking, Ariel. You’ve got magnificent white teeth, for heaven’s sake. You should be proud of them. Don’t take it all so seriously!’

  ‘You can talk!’ Ariel snorted. ‘Mr Serious himself! Well you’re not the only one who worries about things, you know. Apart from my teeth, I have plenty more serious things to keep me occupied!’

  ‘Like what?’ Zed asked.

  Ariel studied his face. He looked as if he wanted to know.

  ‘Well, for example, I hate my school. I don’t like one single person. The girls are either boring or nasty and they all have best friends. At lunchtime they hunt together like a pack of wolves. Everyone ignores me, except for when they call me “Weird Windwood”. Great eh?’ She looked sharply at Zed for the first signs of laughter but he just gazed back at her frowning.

  ‘I’ve never had a best friend either, but at least you can talk to your mother. I mean, she seems like a best friend in a way.’

  Ariel rolled her eyes. ‘There you go again. You and Mothers. The Big Obsession. Just because your mother has gone away for a while, you think your whole life is ruined.’

  ‘Well she is the person who gave birth to me, even if she maybe regretted it afterwards.’

  ‘Oh Zed, don’t be ridiculous. That’s the sort of thing Goodshot would say.’

  Zed’s face clouded at the mention of that name and he cracked his knuckles.

  ‘Okay,’ Ariel lay back and arranged the cushions behind her back. ‘I admit it. Madeline is not the most loving mother in the world.’