CHAPTER 2
FIGHTING OVER PANCAKES
Harry’s tummy was rumbling when the pancakes arrived. He moved his sunglasses out of the way to make room for the large, round plates. The steaming stacks were each ten high and topped with a mountain of blueberries. Sticky sweet maple syrup covered the berries and ran down the sides like a slow moving, golden waterfall.
Flossy’s eyes went wide and she liked her lips. ‘Mmm… I feel like I haven’t eaten for a year. You’ve no idea how bad dog food is; pirates don’t even cook it.’
Reginald’s pancake stack was wheeled out on a low trolley for it was far too heavy to lift. There were ten pancakes, each as big as a pizza and as fat as a history book. Blueberries had tumbled from the mountain top to the sea of syrup pooling on the enormous plate and steam tumbled into the air, lingering as it cooled at the open window. He sniffed the buttery fragrance with his trunk and sighed contentedly.
‘Let me know if you need any help,’ said Harry, laughing as he licked his lips.
‘I think your eyes might be too big, even for your stomach, Harry,’ admonished Reginald. ‘I’d be surprised if you can finish your own.’
‘That’s because you have no idea how famished I am!’ said Harry.
He used a folk to slice off a corner and tuckered in hungrily. Warm, doughy-sweet flavours exploded in his mouth. ‘Mmm!’ he moaned, rolling back in his seat.
Flossy was eating enthusiastically too. ‘ease are elicious,’ she said, mouth crammed full. Maple syrup dribbled down her chin and she wiped it away with a napkin.
‘Didn’t they teach you to eat with your mouth closed?’ said Harry, eyes sparkling.
‘Doesn’t apply to pirates!’ said Flossy between mouthfuls. She picked up her mug, headless of sticky fingers. A loud and deliberate slurp followed. ‘Neither does slurping, by the way.’
Reginald burped so loudly that the windows rattled and everyone in the café looked towards their table. ‘I’ll not be outdone by a pirate,’ he said, grinning.
Everyone but Larry laughed.
Apart for ‘mmm’ and ‘yum’ now and then, everyone but Larry ate with gusto until their tower heights were halved.
Larry toyed with his pancake stack and nibbled at the edges, his face like a deep ocean, thoughts elsewhere. He didn’t touch his hot chocolate either.
‘Hey, the middles are filled with melted chocolate!’ said Flossy, licking chocolate from her lips. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve eaten chocolate. I love chocolate!’
‘The speciality of the house,’ said Harry, ‘is best eaten with a spoon.’ He lifted a pancake to reveal the stack’s melted chocolate heart. Picking up a shiny, silver spoon he scooped up the precious chocolate and placed it felicitously in his mouth. It tasted even better than he remembered.
Reginald rolled up each enormous pancake and inserted them neatly into his mouth. He worked his way through his stack faster than the others and upon reaching the plate, used his trunk to vacuum it clean of syrup and blueberries.
‘Need any help finishing that, Harry?’ asked Reginald, reaching for Harry’s stack.
Harry jabbed at Reginald’s trunk with his spoon. ‘On-guard, vermin!’ he challenged, playfully.
Reginald picked up a fork and jabbed at Harry’s remaining pancakes. Harry easily deflected the attack.
‘You think you can defeat me because you’re bigger, bully? Ha! You should know that I am a trained spoon-master and will defend my pancakes to the death, preferably yours you greedy pachyderm.’
‘To the death, then!’ grimaced Reginald as he lunged, a smile loitering at the corner of his leathery mouth.
Flossy laughed as Harry and Reginald duelled with spoon and fork. The only real casualty was the saltshaker, knocked over but otherwise unharmed.
From his corner, Larry watched silently.
Harry finally got the better of Reginald and knocked aside Reginald’s fork. ‘Do you yield?’ he said.
‘Spare my life, oh great one. You are truly an awesome and fearless spoon-master. Your uneaten pancakes wove upon me a most powerful and dreadful enchantment. Please forgive my reckless and unprovoked attack,’ said Reginald.
Harry relaxed into his seat, smiling serenely. ‘Well, I suppose on this occasion…’
Like lightening, Reginald’s trunk flashed across the table and vacuumed up a mess of blueberries drowning in syrup from the side of Harry’s plate.
‘Hey, that’s cheating!’ protested Harry, stabbing too late.
‘There’s no cheating in war, just strategy and subterfuge,’ said Reginald, smiling contentedly. He made a show of licking his lips.
Everyone laughed except Larry.
The rain outside had faded to a misty drizzle. Others were arriving at the café for breakfast and glancing curiously in their direction. At some point, Flossy had tied back her hair with a blue ribbon so that her strange hairless ears were now clearly visible; like a chimp’s but pale pink and pinned unnaturally against her head rather than sticking out as they should. When seen from the side, a human head was the shape of a teardrop.
Noticing Harry’s interest in her ribbon, Flossy reached up and adjusted it. ‘This was my mother’s,’ she said with a pensive smile. ‘It’s one of my most precious things. Beautiful, isn’t it. Mum said it was the colour of a cloudless day.’
‘I’m sure you’ll find each other again, and your father too,’ said Reginald, reaching out with his trunk and brushing the back of Flossy’s hand. ‘People of good character and courage never fail if they stick at it for the long haul.’
Flossy squeezed the tip Reginald’s trunk, which curled over her hand like fingers. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
All four were quiet for a time, lost in thought. Outside, misty rain fell on the stone town.
Without asking, the ostrich waitress toped up their mugs of hot chocolate from a large clay jug decorated with pictures of owls. Larry put a hand over his as it was still full.
When she had gone, Harry said:
‘Speaking of good character and courage, Reginald, what you did was brimful of both.’
‘Are you referring to my daring lunges during our rather too brief spoon-fight just now? For it was you who won, I believe, not me,’ said Reginald.
Harry looked up at his big friend and remembered him backlit by the museum fire as he fought off the soldiers, intent on capturing Flossy and Larry, who they took to be pirates. The whole town had gathered in the Square and were chanting ‘burn them out, burn them out.’ They had become a mindless mob. Then someone threw a firebrand at the museum and set it alight.
‘No, I meant last night. I saw you stand against the whole town to protect pirates from being lynched. Then, when the fire started, I saw you smash into the museum to save them.’
‘Oh, I’m just an academic, Harry. You must have me confused with someone else. Besides, there were no pirates. We know that now.’
‘Of course it was you. There aren’t many elephants living in Port Isabel, and none other who would dare stand up to the Mayor. Admit it, you’re a hero.’
‘Surely anyone who risks his life to save non-existent pirates is more fool than hero,’ said Reginald.
Harry sat back in his seat so he was level with Flossy and Larry who sat either side. ‘You’re no fool and you know it, Reginald. No matter that the building was empty of pirates, a fool doesn’t wilfully put the lives of others ahead of his own. We only ever act on what we believe to be true, so it’s action that counts at the end of the day, not the belief itself. You acted to prevent a lynching then risked your life trying to save others. I say you’re a hero.’
The ostrich waitresses head was cocked in their direction as she slowly, too slowly, polished a table. Others at nearby tables were unusually silent.
Reginald toyed with his mostly-empty barrel of hot chocolate. A gust of damp air washed around him through the open window. He said:
‘Isn’t this all a bit serious, Harry?
‘You’re always s
o quick to hand out praise to others. Why won’t you receive it?’ Harry asked.
‘Because I don’t deserve…’ said Reginald suddenly, his voice trailing off. He shook his head.
‘Don’t deserve…?’
In all the years he’d known Reginald, Harry had heard little about the great elephant’s life before Port Isabel, when he’d lived in Twin Rivers in the North. He thought there might be some past regret; something Reginald couldn’t even tell a good friend; something he was ashamed of or embarrassed by. He had come to live in Port Isabel with his wife, Marjorie, well before Harry was born. They had no calves of their own, then Marjorie had died.
‘I was just trying to protect the museum exhibits,’ said Reginald, failing to make eye contact. ‘They were irreplaceable and I have spent most of my life collecting, cataloguing and curating them. It was all about the exhibits, you see. That’s why I went into the museum. Why should I care about a few pirates who blew up my school and nearly blew me up with it? I assure you, I’m no hero, Harry.’
‘Oh, I see. I should have realised you’d put those things ahead of a few mangy dogs. Rocks and rusting machines and a few mouldy parchments have much greater worth? Yes, I see it now. You wanted to save the exhibits. It didn’t matter that a few dogs burned alive. After all, you didn’t start the fire so no one would blame you. But the exhibits: they had to be saved at all costs. Strange then, that when I saw you stumble down the stairs backlit by the inferno and streaming smoke you had failed to save a single precious artefact. Too hot to handle, were they?’
Reginald was silent at Harry’s well-intentioned sarcasm.
Harry continued: ‘You are a hero, Reginald, and an inspiration to this town. I don’t know why you can’t receive it but you should at least know that we think it. I know you value lives more highly than artefacts. And I know you believe everyone deserves their day in court, even dogs.’
Reginald looked down while Harry spoke. He made no further attempt to refute Harry’s praise.
‘You had every reason to let them burn. They destroyed your school and museum and they nearly took your life and the childrens’. You had every reason. But you didn’t. You risked you’re life to save them.’
‘Well spoken, Harry,’ said Flossy.
A moment passed before Reginald lifted his huge head and looked evenly at Harry. ‘Port Isabel will need to find a new inspiration.’
Harry waited.
‘I’m leaving,’ said Reginald.
‘Leaving! What do you mean, leaving?’ Harry asked, perplexed. Reginald had been living in Port Isabel for so long and was such an important part of the community it was inconceivable he should go. He would leave a void that no one else would be able to fill.
‘I’m going back to where it all began,’ Reginald said.
‘But you can’t…’
‘I’ll stay if you can answer this question: Why should I stay? What reason would you give?’
‘Well, I think…,’ began Harry. ‘Um, well there’s… um…’
‘I have no school at which to teach and no museum for which to curate. Marjorie, the love of my life, died years ago and we had no calves of our own. My greatest friend and the best of all animals—and I mean you Harry—is leaving without me on some foolhardy and dangerous adventure years in the making. Further to this, I must admit, last’s night debacle has somewhat dampened my opinion of our little town. I still can’t believe my neighbours capable of such blind stupidity and callousness.’
‘But there is a reason that outstrips all of these. In all the years I’ve studied the past, trying to make sense of its biggest mysteries, I have sat at my desk and hoped that some newly uncovered artefact would finally provide the crucial link. I wait and I wait—you know how good elephants are at waiting—but even I am tired of waiting, Harry.’
Reginald sighed. ‘And I must admit too, that I’m beginning to feel my age and sense the real possibility I might depart this world without truly understanding it. So, I have decided to go looking. The loss of the museum, which is truly unfortunate, and to a lesser extent, the loss of the school, is a kind freedom for me; as if the ties have finally been cut. There is nothing keeping me here any longer. Everything is out there lying amongst the rocks in puddles of melting ice.’ He waved his trunk grandly. ‘It’s out there waiting to be discovered.’
‘Perhaps, Harry, you and I are more alike than you know. I long for adventure too, of a different kind, but adventure none-the-less. It’s just taken me a lot longer to find my moment; a lifetime of reflection and study, to find my moment. I want to know what the Heat Trees are for and how they grow. I want to know where all the owls went and why. I want to see if there is anything beyond the Northern Escarpment and the mountain range that walls off the West. Where do all the strange machines we’ve excavated come from, and what do they do? Why did the craniums of all species double in size and change shape at the same time in the fossil record? Of one thing I am sure, I won’t learn anything more with study. Exploration is the only way forward.’
Harry waited until he was sure Reginald had finished. ‘Hear, hear, my great blueberry-stealing friend!’ he said. ‘You are full of surprises and the best of all elephants.’ He raised his nearly-empty mug of hot chocolate and stood on the bench seat. ‘I would propose a toast,’ he announced formally. ‘Please charge your mugs.’
Flossy and Larry hurriedly picked up their mugs. Harry knew Flossy’s mug was empty and admired her for choosing not to break the rhythm of the moment by asking for a refill.
‘To Reginald,’ said Harry. ‘May his odyssey unlock the world’s enigmatic past and his great mind plumb its mysteries and untangle its labyrinthine riddles.’ He raised his mug. ‘To Reginald!’ he charged.
Harry, Larry and Flossy chinked together their mugs and drank. Larry sipped. Flossy pretended to drink. The ostrich waitress, caught up in the moment, looked round for a mug or glass before realising she wasn’t supposed to be listening.
‘Thank you, dearest of friends,’ said Reginald with an elephant-bow, eye’s sparkling. ‘A fine toast and worthy of a worthier recipient than I.’
‘When will you leave? Where will you go?’ asked Flossy. She had leaned forward, elbows on the table, one hand cupping cheek and chin.
‘Today seems as good as any.’
‘Today!’ Harry spluttered.
‘Yes, once I’ve helped you with the small matter of lifting a mast, or some such.’
The Serendipity, the Baltimore Clipper Harry had been building for years by scrounging materials and calling in favours, was still in dry dock at Thompsons Creek. Once the mast was emplaced he could begin the final fit out, then sail the sleek ship down the Rio Grande and out into the Gulf. From there it would be a simple matter to sail south to Sometimes Gap, and through it into the great unknown; all made possible by Flossy’s remarkable map. Reginald had offered to help lift the heavy mast just before the pirate’s cannon ball exploded, destroying the school and throwing Harry flat to the grass.
‘Where will you go?’ Flossy asked.
‘I’ll head up into the Northern Wilds and on to Twin Rivers at the very top of the Rio Grande, where it emerges from the Northern Escarpment. From there I hope to make my way over the mountains. You can see those places marked on your map, Flossy.’
Flossy traced Reginald’s route.
‘And a final tidy up at home is needed,’ said Reginald. ‘I’ll be travelling light so packing will be quick and there are no loose ends at the school and museum to worry about, the pirates took care of those. So I shall begin my odyssey today or tomorrow. Apart from my great sadness of leaving friends, I have no excuses for further delay.’
Larry had slumped in the corner of the booth and was staring fixedly at the table. A great sadness seemed to be pressing him down.
Flossy reached past Harry and squeezed Larry’s hand. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked.
Larry didn’t look up. The rain seemed to grow heavier outside and a cold wind gu
sted through the open window like an ill omen.
‘Could it be that you are, yet again, left behind?’ Reginald asked, gently. ‘I’m going in one direction and Harry and Flossy are going in another. Is that it, Larry?’
Larry shrank, face drooping, shadows deepening. Then he sprang up, stepped nimbly over the table and climbed passed Reginald through the open window. He didn’t look back and no one moved to stop him.
When he had gone Reginald said:
‘I think you should know a bit about Larry’s past, as much as I know. You too, Flossy. Most of the town has the sense of it, if not the actual truth. Since I met him a few months back I’ve been piecing it together. I’m sure Larry wouldn’t mind. It would help you understand, I think. It all began twelve years ago when…’
There was a commotion at the café’s entrance causing everyone to turn. Silence dropped like a net. Someone was coming.
The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel Page 2
