Sky Run

by Alex Shearer

  ‘Ahoy, there. What’s your problem?’

  We drifted in. I threw a fender over so we didn’t bang into each other. The boat was a nice one, modern and sleek, and the couple on it looked affluent and prosperous. The sails were spotless and the solar panels gleamed as if brand new. But the boat wasn’t going anywhere. It had a couple of sky anchors out.

  ‘You broken down?’

  ‘No, no – we’re waiting. We don’t know what to do.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s the islands there –’

  The man on the boat pointed towards the largest of the Friendly Isles.

  ‘It’s our son. We were headed for City Island, to take him to boarding school for the first time, to get educated –’

  ‘Small world, small sky,’ Peggy said. ‘Coincidences everywhere.’

  ‘And we were running early and we came past the islands here and decided to take a look –’

  ‘You went on land?’ Peggy said.

  ‘Yes – we just meant to stay an hour or so –’

  ‘OK. Did you eat the kelp?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘The kelp. They cook it, and chew it, and put it into most of their food. Did you eat it?’

  ‘Well, no, we didn’t have anything. But our son, Leo –’

  ‘He had something to eat?’

  ‘He said he was hungry.’

  ‘Oh my,’ Peggy said. ‘Oh my.’

  The man looked at her. The woman with him was getting tearful.

  ‘We can’t make him come back,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ Peggy said. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘He just won’t come with us. Just refuses. He says he doesn’t care about anything any more. He just wants to stay where he is.’

  ‘Which is where?’

  ‘He’s sitting in the park there, with some others his age –’

  ‘And when you tried to make him go with you?’

  ‘The island people wouldn’t let us. They got outraged. Nobody can be forced to leave the island. They can leave of their own free will any time they choose. But they can’t be made to. Not even if they’re under age –’ the woman said.

  ‘Especially if they’re under age, so that policeman said, remember?’ the man interrupted.

  ‘Oh my,’ Peggy sighed. ‘Don’t you people read the International Sky Hazards documents before you start sailing places?’

  ‘Well, we did. Of course. I mean, we avoided the Islands of Night, and the Forbidden Isles and –’

  ‘Didn’t you read the advice about here?’

  ‘Well – this place is friendly. Isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ Peggy said, with an edge to her voice. ‘Real friendly. Too friendly.’ And she sighed again.

  ‘So what is it with this place?’ the man said. ‘It looks harmless. What’s the danger?’

  ‘The kelp,’ Peggy said. ‘That’s why no one leaves. They chew it all day long, and add it to their rice, and garnish their sky-fish with it.’

  ‘It’s a drug?’

  ‘Well, there’s something in it that makes you happy, all right. Makes you happy, knocks out whatever ambition and motivation you once had. All you want to do is lie in the sun and chill out with your friends and do as little work as possible.’

  The man actually looked interested – tempted, even.

  ‘And what’s the downside?’

  ‘None, if you don’t mind being a mindless zombie the rest of your life,’ Peggy said.

  ‘James,’ the woman reminded her husband, ‘we are trying to get Leo to school. We want him off that island and on our way. We don’t want to be there with him.’

  ‘Yeah, well you do have a problem there, don’t you?’ Peggy said. ‘Because if he goes on eating the kelp – and he will – he won’t ever want to leave. And the islanders won’t let you make him. So all you’ve got is persuasion, far as I can see. That’s the only tool in the box.’

  ‘We spent hours talking to him. He just says, “Mum, Dad, chill out.’’’

  ‘Chill out?’

  ‘That’s right. We’ve tried everything. Nothing works.’

  ‘Tried abduction?’

  ‘Yes. We tried picking him up but he just starting kicking and everyone around came to help him – and we were told to leave him be or quit the island.’

  ‘Well, you’re lucky you didn’t eat the kelp too,’ Peggy said. ‘Or you’d all be living happy and brainless ever after.’

  ‘Might have been better if we had,’ the woman said ruefully. ‘At least I wouldn’t be worried sick right now. Is there anything you can do to help us?’

  ‘Would if we could, but I don’t see how we can,’ Peggy said.

  And then the couple spotted Martin.

  ‘How about your boy there?’ the man said. ‘He looks our son’s age.’

  ‘And what about it?’

  ‘Maybe he could talk him round. He might listen to someone his own age. Or maybe he could persuade our Leo to take a walk with him down to the harbour, and then once he was on the jetty –’

  ‘Bundle him on board and away?’ Peggy said. ‘That the plan?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  I thought it stank. Not nicely, like the kelp. Just stank full stop. What if something went wrong? What if Martin got into trouble? He might have annoyed me at times, but he was my brother and I didn’t want to lose him.

  ‘I think it’s a bad idea,’ I said. ‘I don’t think that –’

  But I didn’t get to say any more. Martin was on the case.

  ‘I’ll rescue him,’ he said. ‘I’ll do it. Let me, Peggy. I’ll do it. Really. I know just what to say. I’ll ask him to come to the harbour to go sky-swimming – or to play football –’

  ‘Football?’ the woman said. ‘You can play?’

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ Martin said. ‘I know all about it.’

  ‘Don’t let him, Peggy,’ I said. ‘Don’t let him do it.’

  ‘I think Martin’s being really brave,’ Miss Speckles Angelica said admiringly – which didn’t really help, as it just fired Martin up to even greater and more reckless feats of would-be heroism and stupidity.

  ‘I might even be able to drag him to the harbour if he won’t come willingly. I can knock him out and put him on my back – fireman’s lift.’

  Leo’s mother looked dismayed.

  ‘We don’t really want that …’

  ‘Only as a very last resort,’ Martin said. ‘Can I, Peggy? Can I?’

  Peggy just sighed.

  ‘I’m getting too old for this,’ she said. ‘It’s a rock or a hard place every single day. Wrong if you do and wrong if you don’t. Gemma?’

  ‘I say no.’

  ‘Alain?’

  ‘I’m happy to go instead. But I’m older …’

  ‘I think someone Leo’s own age would persuade him better …’

  ‘Angelica?’

  ‘I think Martin’s really brave.’

  ‘OK,’ Peggy said. ‘Majority has it. Sorry, Gemma.’

  ‘Then I want to go with him.’

  ‘Martin?’

  ‘As long as she stays out of my hair and doesn’t interfere.’

  ‘OK. You go together then. And remember, once you’re on the island, whatever else you do –’

  ‘Don’t eat the kelp,’ I said. ‘Got that, Martin?’

  ‘Of course I have. I’m not stupid, you know. I’m hardly going to eat the kelp when I know what it does to you, am I?’

  Which was true enough. And he didn’t eat the kelp either.

  He went and did something else just as bad instead.

  21

  maybe even too friendly

  GEMMA CONTINUING:

  I have to admit that it was hard not to be seduced by the Friendly Isles. They were so welcoming, so enticing, so nice.

  I guess that there are people like that too. Everyone tells you how wonderful somebody is, and what great charm they have, and that you can’t help but love them
when you meet them. So you think – not me, I’m not falling for it, all these charmers are just phonies underneath, and I’m not going to like them at all. But then you meet whoever it is, and you find yourself falling for them too. Well, the Friendly Isles were like that: somehow, you couldn’t help liking them and going under their spell, like someone sitting in the hypnotist’s chair, feeling heavier and heavier, with your eyelids slowly closing.

  ‘We’ll wait for you here,’ Peggy said. ‘You go and find their son, and talk him into coming down to the jetty, then if we can get him on board and down below, we’ll slam the hatch on him and take off, and deliver him back to his parents.’

  Their boat was still anchored way out off shore. Peggy thought that if their wayward son Leo saw his parents’ boat at the jetty then he’d simply turn tail and run for it. And she was probably right.

  ‘OK,’ Peggy said. ‘He’s your age, Martin – dark hair, red T-shirt, navy shorts, sandals, answers to the name of Leo, last seen in the main square park. You go and persuade him to take a walk to the harbour with you. I don’t know what you’re going to say –’

  ‘I’ll think of something, don’t worry. I’m good at making things up and –’

  ‘And lying –’ I couldn’t help but add.

  ‘Embellishing –’ Martin said.

  ‘Yeah, well, you could call it that, I suppose,’ I said.

  ‘I can do this on my own, you know,’ Martin said.

  ‘Yeah, I know. But I’m still coming with you. Mum’s last words to me –’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Look after Martin.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I can look after myself now.’

  ‘OK, so I’ll come and watch you do that.’

  ‘Is that the squabbling over for now?’ Peggy said. ‘Short truce, maybe?’

  ‘Come on then,’ Martin said. ‘If you must.’

  So we hopped down from the boat and onto the jetty and headed into the town of Friendly, capital of the Friendly Isles – and it certainly lived up to its name.

  ‘And remember,’ Peggy called after us. ‘Don’t eat the kelp. Whatever you do.’

  ‘We won’t,’ I said. ‘Don’t worry.’ And I knew that I wouldn’t. But as for Martin … well …

  There was a sign by the harbour, a big town sign in bright colours and with flowers growing around it.

  WELCOME TO THE FRIENDLY ISLES, it read, and underneath it someone had scrawled, SO FRIENDLY EVEN THE GARBAGE DOESN’T WANT TO LEAVE.

  I exchanged a look with Martin, and we walked on towards the town.

  ‘Howdy!’

  ‘Howdy, young lady, young man.’

  ‘Hey – strangers. Nice to see you.’

  ‘Hey there, youngsters. How are you? Looking good today.’

  Everyone was just so friendly. I’d never met so many pleasant and smiling people, ever. They were all so warm and welcoming, so happy-looking and kind, you just felt at home from the second you arrived. In fact it was like you had lived there all your life, and every single inhabitant was an old friend.

  ‘Friendly, aren’t they?’ Martin said, as we walked into town.

  ‘Yeah, too friendly,’ I said, still trying to keep my cynical defences up, but that was more to impress Martin than anything. Truth was, my defences were being eroded. Why had Peggy told us there was anything wrong with the Friendly Isles? The place was lovely.

  There were people working, but no one was working too hard. They all seemed to take life at a leisurely place, and there was time for a break, and a chat, and a word with your neighbours and a talk with your friends. And then, when a stranger came along, it was:

  ‘Hey there, youngsters, how are you this fine day? Now there’s a pretty young lady.’

  ‘There’s a handsome young man!’

  And they were half joking with you, but you felt there was no real harm in it, and that at root they really meant what they said, and were nice as people could be.

  On we went.

  ‘Which way is the city park, please?’ I asked a passer-by.

  ‘You after seeing our beautiful city park, young lady? Well, you won’t be disappointed. You just keep straight on, take a left at the T, go along, left again and you can’t miss it. And you enjoy it. There’s music there and always plenty of young people and things going on. You enjoy.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  And on we went.

  ‘This is a nice place, isn’t it?’ Martin said. ‘Don’t you think? I can see why Leo wanted to stay.’

  ‘Yes, me too …’ And, although I was nearly completely seduced by the island, a little cold, hard part of me was still thinking, What’s the catch here? Where’s the downside? Where’s the reality?

  Because I can’t believe that anywhere’s perfect, nor that life can be so easy, no matter where you are. There’s always a fly in the soup or an insect biting. Life can be good, but it can suddenly turn nasty on you. And while it’s nice to stroke the soft fur coat of some lovely wild animal, it’s also a good idea to know where its teeth are, in case it decides to bite. And, in my experience, life can bite you at any time, without warning, and it can tear out a big chunk and leave you bleeding.

  ‘I like it here,’ Martin said. ‘And can you smell the food? I’m getting a bit hungry.’

  ‘You heard what Peggy said.’

  ‘I know. It’s just, it smells nice.’

  It did too. There were food places everywhere – cafes, street stalls, restaurants. Rice and Kelp. Kelpie Burgers. Sky-fish in Kelpie Batter.

  ‘It looks like kelp with everything,’ I said. And it did. And I noticed that almost everyone who wasn’t actually eating was chewing.

  CHEWS, a sign by a stall read. TEN CHEWS FOR TEN CENTS.

  ‘Shall we get some chews if we can’t eat anything?’ Martin said.

  ‘Martin, what do you think is in them?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Kelp, of course.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘What else would it be?’

  ‘We could try one.’

  ‘No. Come on. Look, there’s the park.’

  I began to see the cracks in the jigsaw then. Certainly the people were friendly, and certainly they looked happy – or at least content – but they were happy and content in a sort of empty, glassy-eyed way, like there was nothing special they wanted to do with their lives, and there never would be, just as long as they could have another chew or eat another kelpie burger.

  And as I looked around, I could see that things weren’t quite as perfect as they had first seemed; the buildings were faded and crumbling and in need of maintenance; things needed washing, bins needed emptying, and the island’s children – who you’d think would have been at school – appeared to be at some endless playtime. And while some of them were running around playing, others looked listless and bored, as if they had nothing to keep them occupied other than to unwrap another chew and put it into their mouths.

  ‘Look – that must be him.’

  We stopped by a bench. Lying on the grass a short distance away was a group of young people, some my age, some Martin’s. Among them was a boy in a red T-shirt, who was sprawled on the grass, his eyes closed, his face in the sunlight, as he listened to someone picking a slow tune out on a four-stringed guitar.

  ‘What do we do?’

  ‘I don’t know. But you’d better be subtle about it, Martin.’

  ‘Subtle’s my middle name.’

  ‘If it is, it’s a recent addition.’

  ‘Look, you wait here and give me a few minutes. I’ll go over and just kind of sit down and get chatting and then persuade him to come for a walk or something …’

  ‘To do what?’

  ‘I’ll think of something. Just give me twenty minutes or so then come back.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Two of us go over, he might get suspicious.’

  ‘OK. I’ll walk around and then come back.’

  ‘Twenty minutes or so.’r />
  ‘All right. I’ll see you then.’

  I watched as Martin strolled off to join the group of people gathered on the grass. He sat and stretched out. Then he saw that I was still by the bench looking at him, and he gestured with irritation for me to go. So I did. Against my better judgement. And I went to look around the town, intending to return in about twenty minutes’ time.

  But I have to confess that I got a little distracted and wrapped up in the sights and sounds of Friendly, and maybe the casualness got to me too, and I thought to myself, well, where’s the rush, what’s the hurry? And at one point, before I realised what I was doing, I found myself sitting at a little outdoor cafe, and the waitress came over with the menu and said.

  ‘Hi, how are you, honey? And how are we having our kelpie today?’

  Which brought me back to my senses, and I quickly got up, and mumbled something, and hurried on my way – and I could feel the waitress standing, staring after me, though I didn’t look back. And then I got a little lost too, down one of the myriad back streets of the souk, and there were street stalls everywhere, selling food or jewellery, and there was some kind of smoky haze in the air, and I began to feel listless and aimless, and then even forget where I was and what I was doing there.

  It was only when someone pushing a handcart nearly ran me over that the adrenalin shock of reaction brought me back to my senses. And I saw on a nearby clock that over an hour had passed, and so I hurriedly retraced my way to the park.

  At first I couldn’t find Martin. But then I saw him. He was lying in the sun with his shirt off, there among the other young people. And though I walked straight towards him, he didn’t seem to see me. He was next to two girls and a couple of other boys, one of whom was Leo, who we had come to rescue, while Martin was trying to pick a tune out on the guitar.

  ‘Hey! It’s Gemma! Hi, sis. Come and meet my buddies.’

  Sis? I thought. Buddies? What was this?

  ‘Martin –’ I said.

  ‘This is my buddy Leo and my buddy Sam and my buddy Anna and my buddy Theresa and –’

  ‘You seem to have acquired a lot of buddies since I’ve been away, Martin,’ I said.

  ‘I have, sis. Everyone’s just so friendly. Why don’t you sit down and chill out and take it easy?’