The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel

by Mark Douglas Stafford

CHAPTER 10

  ISCARIOT SNAKE

  Flossy walked in the rain beside her big friend. ‘I suppose there’s little point in searching further,’ she said, sighing.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Reginald. ‘And it’s time to return anyway. The others are probably polishing off their third hot chocolates and warming their paws, claws and hoofs by the fire at the café.’

  ‘Well, let’s head back then. I could use another hot chocolate and the fire may save my life.’ Flossy shivered. Her bare feet were ice blocks. ‘Now that we know the mysterious sheep-dog pirates are actually just plain-old sheep, all I have to do is apologise to the others for leading them on a wild goose chase.’

  ‘Oh, Harry and the others will be quick to forgive, I believe. You’ll probably have to give up a marshmallow again, in recompense, and that will be that.’

  ‘A small price, though,’ said Flossy, smiling grimly. ‘On second thoughts, they were good, weren’t they!’

  A family of creamy-white llamas moved to one side of the road, the parents keeping their heads down as they passed. The three youngsters watched Flossy with bright, wide eyes. She smiled and waved good-naturedly. The parents, who had long necks and fluffy grey ears on top of their small dark heads, ushered their youngsters on without making eye contact with Flossy.

  ‘Everyone’s still a little shaken after last night,’ said Reginald, glancing back at the llamas. ‘And you’re an unknown quantity; someone connected with danger. Humans haven’t been seen in this part of the world in living memory. All they have to go on is legend, and that unfairly portrays humans as little more than wild animals, smarter than most, with a penchant for violence.’

  ‘The pirate clothes probably don’t help either,’ said Flossy. She straightened her sodden jacket and fluffed her flat hair.

  They came to a wide intersection of five roads and Flossy paused to let Reginald choose the way. The buildings around them were tall and seemed to lean inwards from weariness. Reginald turned to the left and Flossy followed.

  ‘So, before our little bit of excitement with your sycophantic fans we were talking about whether Australian animals are different or just haven’t had the chance to develop in the way animals here have.’

  ‘No, they’re definitely different. The pirates, who don’t even speak Latin, were the first thinking animals I had met and I immediately knew they were different.’

  ‘How so?’ Reginald asked. He tilted his head towards Flossy as he walked.

  ‘One of them was tying a Slipped Buntline,’ said Flossy.

  ‘A Slipped Buntline?’

  ‘It’s a quick release knot used by sailors, and seadogs too, so it seems. No amount of training would help a dog where I come from tie a Slipped Buntline.’

  ‘So that’s what gave them away, a knot?’

  ‘Yes, and also their tools and the way they were coordinating their actions. They seemed to know what to do and when to do it, like someone was managing the whole show. They worked really well as a pack and they were more coordinated than any other animals I’d seen. I started seeing them as a single creature rather than individual dogs.’

  The road they were on widened as it opened onto Town Square. The Square was covered by a thick blanket of fog. Flossy could see the warmly glowing Heat Tree but couldn’t make out the alarm bell rotunda or Town Hall beyond. Only a few animals were about and most of the shops and cafés still appeared to be closed. Someone had carried off the lump of stone that neatly hit Harry. She glanced up at the roofline but there were no shadows and she was beginning to wonder if there ever were.

  Reginald fell silent as they trudged past the burnt out museum. She could only imagine the sadness he must be feeling seeing his life’s work destroyed. The silver Cylinder House rising above the ruins was the only thing that had seemed to have survived unscathed. Everything else was blackened or had tumbled to the ground. The rubble still lay where it had fallen and the puddles were dark with ash.

  ‘Let’s take shelter and see if the others are back yet,’ said Flossy. The brightly lit windows of the Stinging Nettle beckoned invitingly. ‘If they’re not there we should be able to watch for them easily enough from inside.’

  Reginald followed Flossy, his trunk swinging sadly. Flossy reached up and held the tip of his ear. There was nothing she could think to say that would help.

  When she entered the café, the whole town seemed to be packed inside. Animals of every House squawked, hooted and grunted nosily as they hoed into overflowing bowls and over-stacked plates. There was pizza and pasta, soup and stew, chips and chocolate. There were also troughs full of grains like barley, oats and straw.

  Three seemingly identical lemur waiters with black and white striped tails looked professionally frantic as they ducked under the belly of a giraffe straddling the aisle. They were balancing giant ice cream sundaes on wooden trays. The noises, smells and enthusiasm produced in Flossy a powerful hunger and she licked her lips in anticipation.

  An enormous snake, its body as thick as a tree trunk, lowered itself from the rafters so that its head was level with Flossy’s. Instinctively she stepped back and half drew her sword from its scabbard. Judging on its size it could easily swallow her whole.

  ‘Flossy Fairweather, I presume,’ it said, hissing, tongue flicking. Its glassy black eyes didn’t blink. There was fierce intelligence there.

  Flossy slid her sword back and rested her hand on the pommel. ‘You surprised me, dropping down like that,’ she said.

  ‘I’ll be your waiter this afternoon; that is if you don’t object?’ said the snake as he lowered his head to study her sword. His forked tongue flicked noiselessly.

  ‘Why should I object?’ asked Flossy, voice breaking. She adjusted her sword belt so her sword hung behind her.

  The snake tightened its coils in the creaking rafters, its arrow head swaying menacingly as if it was sizing her up. ‘Some of the bite-sized animals in Port Isabel feel uncomfortable being so close to my kind. I can’t imagine why. Come this way, pleasssse. I see a table by the window has just become free.’

  ‘I’m dining with a large friend. He’s waiting outside,’ said Flossy.

  ‘Ah, two celebrates for lunch, delicious! The Stinging Nettle is indeed blessed. There’s a booth free in the corner, I think. I will open a window for Mr Elephant.’

  ‘You know him?’ Flossy asked. She followed the snake as he wove himself through the rafters above. Animals stopped eating and watched her warily or with intense curiosity as she passed their tables.

  ‘Yes, I know him. He’s one of the mammals that everyone but me seems to be able to stomach,’ said the snake, a death-gleam in his unblinking eyes.

  As the snake adjusted the bench seat to suit her body-dimensions she kept a wary eye on the deadly creature. Though she didn’t show it, it was unnerving to be so close to something that could easily swallow her whole.

  When she was seated, the snake drew back the window shutters. Flossy could just make out the museum ruins through the thick fog. The others hadn’t yet returned.

  Reginald swayed as he approached the open window.

  ‘Good evening, sssssir,’ said the snake.

  Coldness entered Reginald’s eyes and his face paled. ‘I heard you were back, Iscariot. And you’re working here?’ he asked. There was no warmth in his voice.

  ‘It’s gratifying that one so great deigns to notice the comings and goings of a lowly waiter,’ said the snake disingenuously. ‘Yes, I’m back and may settle down this time. It’s warm here and I find I’ve developed an appetite for the good folk of Port Isabel.’

  Flossy could see Iscariot’s double meaning was not lost on Reginald. But instead of rising to the bait he turned to Flossy and said: ‘Many years ago Iscariot Snake was a pupil of mine; when I was just starting out as a teacher, in fact. Later he fell under suspicion for a possible association with the Troubles.’

  ‘Troubles?’ said Flossy, leaning forward.

  ‘And here…
are your menus,’ said the big snake, interrupting with a rude hiss.

  Flossy accepted hers but the snake tossed Reginald’s carelessly on the windowsill as he drew back into the rafters. It fell outside before Reginald could grab it with his trunk.

  Having fallen in a puddle at his feet, the pages were stuck together and there was mud on the cover. His big eyes were sad and disappointed.

  ‘Here, please use mine. I’ll get another,’ said Flossy, sliding her menu across the table.

  Before Reginald could thank her or object, Flossy slid from her seat to hunt down the snake. She caught up with him at a nearby table. He was taking an order from a gorilla wearing a sling; the same she had tricked, as it happened; the same she had seen in the Hall of Deliberation standing guard at the doors.

  A swift kick to Iscariot’s belly caught his attention. The big snake swung about lightning-fast, his mouth open and fangs barred in reflex. Her sword was already drawn and pressing against the big snake’s throat.

  ‘I bet I’m faster,’ said Flossy, grinning fiercely.

  The café fell silent and time seemed to slow to a crawl. She could see that Iscariot was fighting instinct; that he wanted to strike. If he did her sword would cut him but wouldn’t stop him.

  Perhaps she had pushed him too far.

  Oblivious to the unfolding drama, a baby gorilla sitting at the table next to her made a noisy slurp as she finished the dregs of her banana milkshake.

  Then the gorilla with the sling stood and gently pushed aside Flossy’s sword. ‘This is not the time or the place,’ he said quietly.

  ‘We would like a new menu, please,’ said Flossy to Iscariot Snake, through gritted teeth. She lowered and sheathed her sword.

  ‘I will be with you presently, Miss Fairweather,’ said the snake with a professional smile. He turned back to the table of gorillas as if nothing had happened. ‘Now, I think I should bring out another banana milkshake for your scrumptious little daughter. Yes?’

  Flossy returned to her table and slid to the middle of the bench seat so she directly faced Reginald. The fog had thickened further but she could see enough to know that Harry, Sally and Stanley hadn’t yet returned.

  ‘I think I’ll have the barely cakes and perhaps a barrel of apple cider,’ Reginald pondered out loud. ‘Would you like to see the menu?’ He clearly wasn’t aware of her confrontation with Iscariot.

  ‘Harry hasn’t returned yet,’ she said. She accepted the menu from Reginald. ‘He seems like a punctual kind of possum. Do you think he’s okay?’

  Reginald ponderously turned, then turned back to face Flossy. ‘I’ll go and see if anyone knows anything. Please order for me, I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  She watched Reginald trundle off into the fog then opened the menu. It was divided into categories based on animal type and size. It must be difficult for the café to cater for so many different kinds of appetites. The section for medium-sized mammals looked the most promising. The pancake stack with cherry glaze looked good; so did the minestrone soup served with a freshly baked bread.

  A menu slammed into hers from above. She looked up sharply.

  ‘Your menu, Miss Human,’ said the huge snake hanging above her. Iscariot Snake lowered his head so it was level with hers. His blood-red tongue flicked out menacingly. His breath was putrid, like rotting fish.

  ‘Now, may I take your order?’ he asked.

  ‘You know,’ said Flossy, ‘you really should use breath freshener.’

  ‘There is only one thing I want to put in my mouth,’ said Iscariot, nostrils flaring, an evil gleam in his onyx eyes.

  She was about to explain that some people considered roast snake a delicacy in Australia when she heard an elephant trumpeting from somewhere across the Square.

  Reginald!

  Flossy pushed the snake’s head roughly aside, leapt through the open window and ran through the swirling fog towards Town Hall. Her sword was already drawn.