Читать книгу Olivia Brophie and the Pearl of Tagelus - Christopher Tozier - Страница 9

To Olivia’s relief, the cupboard overflowed with boxes of cereal. She had figured that the Milligans were going to make her eat Cream of Wheat or bran muffins or grapefruits washed down with cranberry juice. These old anti-TV hippies certainly wouldn’t have anything good to eat. On the contrary, there were so many boxes of cereal she couldn’t think of a single kind that wasn’t in there. From behind the Frosted Flakes and Cinnamon Life, she pulled out the Froot Loops and sat down at the kitchen table. Gnat was already shoveling an extraordinarily large bowl of Cocoa Puffs into his mouth with an extraordinarily large spoon.

“Uh, . . . Gnat. Who said you get to eat so much sugar?”

He pointed his spoon to the other room, “Mothership.”

“She is not your mothership. She is your aunt. Did you sleep all right?”

“Affirmative.”

“Well, I sure did. That weird bed was . . . What is that?” she said looking out the window. There, in the sand outside, a red-, yellow-, and black-banded snake slithered from the house toward the forest. It carved a curving trail in the sand. Precisely following the trail left by the first snake, another snake came out from under the house. And another. A long line of snakes, nose to tail, slithered their way to the trees. Because they all followed the same track, the sand looked like only a single snake had passed.

Aunt leaned over the table. “Those are the coral snakes. They live under the house. Don’t go messin’ with them, they are very poisonous.”

“They live . . . under the house?” Olivia stammered.

“For almost as long as we’ve lived here,” Aunt said.

“Then why don’t you kill them?”

“They haven’t hurt anyone.”

“Yet,” mumbled Olivia. Still, she couldn’t resist watching the colorful snakes as they ribboned their way in the sunlight.

“They will come back home before the sun goes down.”

“Why do you have so many cereal boxes?” Gnat interrupted.

“Because we knew you liked cereal,” Aunt responded.

That answer made sense to Gnat and he nodded his head as he pushed another spoonful into his mouth.

Olivia watched the last tail of the last snake disappear behind a pine tree. “I wonder where they are going,” she said to no one in particular. “Maybe they have a job. I wonder what kind of kingdom they have underneath the house.”

“I don’t know, but listen to me, don’t you go looking,” Aunt said sternly. “I mean it.”

“I’ll bet their kingdom is filled with jewels and pretty little birds that they have charmed. I’ll bet they have beds of silk down there.” Olivia paused for a second and then stood straight up. “All right. I want to call Dad and have him come get me . . . I mean us — unless Cereal Freak wants to stay here. I’m sure he will love having no TV. Where is the phone?”

Aunt studied Olivia for a long time and then pointed to the phone on the wall behind a big jar of artfully arranged noodles.

Gnat looked up from the table with a chunk of cereal stuck to his chin. “What? No TV?”

Olivia grabbed the phone and stormed to another room where she stayed for several minutes. Then she returned the phone to the wall. “I left a message. He will be here this weekend.”

Olivia threw her cereal bowl on the counter and ran outside to find the coral snake trail. It was already hotter at nine in the morning than it ever got in Wisconsin. The small trees in the dwarf forest were all twisted and contorted. Their limbs draped with long, hanging Spanish moss. Some taller pine trees growing in the forest looked a little more normal. Except they weren’t normal. Every single one of them tilted at an angle as if a giant hand had come down from the sky and knocked all of them over. The entire forest floor consisted of white sand. The pathways around the crooked trees were white. White sand rippled where the breeze had tossed it. Olivia saw tiny, perfectly round holes bored down into the sand that looked like crab holes at the beach. She wondered what might live down there.

Most of the backyard consisted of Aunt’s flower garden. Some flowers only opened in the morning light. Some flowers wilted and died as soon as the sun rays touched them. There were big, plate-sized blooms and long, hanging clusters. Pink pom-poms covered the ground, each tiny pink petal tipped with a yellow glob of pollen. Butterflies fluttered everywhere. She sat on a bench and watched the goldfish darting back and forth underneath the lilies in their pond. Fierce dragonflies perched on the giant fern fronds overhanging the water. They each sat for a moment, polished their giant eyes with their front legs, and then zipped back to the sky. Smaller damselflies fluttered closer to the surface of the pond. Their colorful bodies and dainty wing beats reminded her of ballet dancers. Olivia had always wanted to take ballet lessons like some of the girls in her class. Even jazz dancing. The only dance she knew how to do was polka. Polka dancing was fun and she could polka all night long at weddings. But everyone can polka, even Dad. No one would pay to see you polka. No audience would jump to its feet with excitement. She wanted to dance up in the air, with nice slippers, and violins, and flying silks. Just once, she wanted everyone to think that she, Olivia Brophie, was the most fantastic dancer in the world.

She looked up and saw Uncle on the other side of the yard. He was wearing a huge straw hat. Olivia almost yelled to him, but he seemed so busy that she just watched him slowly cross the yard. He carried a hammer and a very large birdhouse back to the fence by the trees. The birdhouse was as tall as he was. He had built it out of a hollowed-out log. The roof was covered with thick bark and peaked up into fine gables. A cross perched at the top of an elegant steeple. Twelve tall windows circled around the structure and each was painted to mimic stained glass. Sparkling crystals hung from the corners. It reminded her of a rustic cathedral or a log cabin church. Olivia could see that it had an extra-large hole cut into an arch for the birds to enter. Uncle found a spot on the fence that could support the colossal church and hammered it securely with three thick, silver nails. She ducked behind a big red hibiscus bush to get a better view. Uncle stepped back and looked up into the tops of the trees. The yellow morning sunlight glowed on the leaves as the mist rose up and disappeared into the sky.

“That old fool,” Olivia thought, “he thinks the birds are just going to fly inside with him standing there.”

She was about to step out from behind the bush and tell Uncle to back up if he wants the birds to come, but then she noticed something up in the trees. Something big shifted and stretched its legs. Olivia waited for some strange, stupid Florida bird to flap its wings. The only things she could see were oak leaves, pine needles, and branches. She squinted and tried to focus on the movement. Slowly, on wire-thin legs, an enormous walkingstick insect turned its long, skinny body around and started walking down the tree. Its body was ebony-black and shiny with two bright white stripes running along the back. She didn’t think an insect could be this large. It looked big enough to carry a small dog up into the oaks. Its face, like all insects, was expressionless. But there was an air of peace and contemplation about it. It didn’t freak her out at all like the roach she saw last night or the wasps that used to prowl the screen porch back home. How had she not seen it there before?

Suddenly, all over the branches, the leaves came to life. Hundreds of walkingsticks marched silently down to the birdhouse. Slowly. Deliberately. They stepped carefully among the shifting leaves. An ancient arboreal tribe emerged. Olivia held her breath. One by one, they lowered their heads into the opening of the new church and slid their long bodies inside. She heard Uncle speaking gently to them. His voice was a faint comfort on the breeze. “Yes, I knew you would like it. There, there. Yes, there is plenty of room for everyone. You will be safe, safe in here.” A warm breeze blew. The bits of colored glass on the fence clinked like bells. Olivia closed her eyes, listening, oh listening!

Moments later she opened her eyes. Uncle was gone. Olivia stood up from behind the bush, walked over to the walkingstick church and peeked into the darkness. All she could see was a tangled mess of black legs and antennae. A strange spicy perfume wafted out of the opening. It made her sneeze.

Somewhere in the trees, a beautiful musical note whistled. It wasn’t a loud note, but in the quiet air it rang clear and sweet. What could it be? It whistled again. What a charming sound! It slid up like a question. Olivia took a step into the woods. She peered through the dwarf trees and palmettos, trying to find who, or what, it was. She started walking. The white sand slid softly under her feet. Another whistle. It was coming from beyond that pine. She walked faster. The whistler seemed to be moving away just as fast as she walked. Olivia’s feet moved faster and faster underneath her. She just had to find out what was making that beautiful noise. She ran faster and faster. A sudden wave of fear swept over her. She couldn’t stop. Something inside pushed against her muscles. Her legs were a blur. She had never run this fast in her life. It felt like the air was carrying her. Sweat soaked her clothes. She plunged through palmettos and cactus, their spines searing her skin. The oak branches scratched across her face. And then . . .

She stopped.

Exhausted, Olivia collapsed onto the sand, staring up at the blue sky. The only thing she could hear was her own heavy breathing. The whistling stopped.

“What was that all about?” she said to no one in particular. She looked to her side. There, on the edge of the brush, stood a brown bird the size of a chicken. Olivia tried to sit up, but she was so exhausted she couldn’t move. Her arms and legs felt heavy as concrete. She could see twenty more birds standing behind it. Maybe more. The bird looked right into her eyes and tilted its head. It was contemplating her. A cold chill poured through her skin. She struggled to her feet. Wobbling, she yelled, “Go! Go!” and swung her arms wildly. A strange humming noise grew in her ears. It sounded like chanting from far away. It sounded like a screeching train, louder, louder until she thought her eardrums would burst.

“Hello? Are you OK? Wake up! Hello? If you don’t get up the ants are going to get ya.”

Olivia felt dizzy. She had passed out. She tried to open her eyes but the sun came rushing in. Someone was poking her side with a stick.

“Sit up. There are ants all over.”

She swatted at the stick with her arm and sat up. Sand shook out of her messed up hair. The rude person poked her with the stick again.

“Knock it off,” she snipped.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” she said reaching down to her ankles. “Ouch!” There were cactus spines and blood all over her shins.

“Here. Let me help you up.”

Olivia squinted up to see a skinny boy holding his hand out to her. He had light blond hair, a buzz cut, and tiny ears. In fact, he had the tiniest ears she had ever seen.

“Come on. Get up before you get bit,” he said, grinning.

“What’s so funny?” she snapped. Olivia could see that he had a bundle of wire flags and a notebook with him.

He reached down and pulled her up.

“Thanks. Did you see any birds standing around out here?” Olivia asked.

“Huh?”

“Birds. Brown birds. Size of a chicken. Did you see any?”

“Not really. I saw a cardinal just over there. Listen, my name is Doug.”

“Oh. I’m Olivia. Thanks.”

“Are you sure you are OK?”

“Not really. The weirdest thing just happened. There was this whistle and I couldn’t find it and I ran farther and farther. . . .” Olivia saw the worried look on Doug’s face. “Uh, forget it.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Doug asked. “Here, have some water. Nobody comes out here without water.” He handed Olivia an old tin canteen. The water tasted so sweet on her dried lips.

“I’m visiting my aunt and uncle. The Milligans. What are you doing out here?”

“I’m marking tortoise burrows for a school project.”

“It’s summertime. Isn’t school out?”

“Yeah, well, it’s extra credit. I’m monitoring all of the burrows that I can find out here. Where are you from anyway? You have a funny accent.”

“I have an accent? Ha!”

“And you are wearing flip-flops. That ain’t too bright.”

“Listen, I wasn’t planning on coming out here. Just point me the way to get back.”

“How bout I walk with you. I have to find more burrows.”

“Fine. You know, you are the one with an accent. Ouch! Those cactus spines hurt!”

“Yeah. Well you aren’t supposed to mess with them. Just pick off the ones you can see. You are gonna have to get the little ones when you get home. Don’t touch your eyes whatever you do. They’ll have to pluck out your eyes if you get the spines in there.”

Olivia leaned over and started pulling out the spines from her shins. Blood dripped down her legs. “What kind of forest is this anyway? It sure is weird. OUCH!”

“It’s called scrub, and there’s no other place in the world like it. It’s what I’m doing my project on.”

“I thought you were doing it on turtles.”

“First of all, they are tortoises, not turtles. And second of all, I’m trying to find as many endangered species as I can out here.”

“Well, Nature Boy, you can have it. There aren’t even any pretty trees. And, the birds . . .” she stopped herself. “Let’s just go.”

They started walking back to her house. Olivia felt safer with Doug there, even if he was a little scrawny.

“So tell me, what are we looking for? Burrows?” she asked.

“Yeah, tortoise burrows. I’m putting a flag on each one and marking it on my map so I can find it later. Look. Here’s one.” He pointed to a large hole slanting down into the sand. It looked like something had been digging at it just a few moments ago. Olivia knelt down and peered inside. She could see a gray, scaly foot just on the edge of the darkness. Then, as if it could feel her eyes looking, it disappeared altogether into the depths.

“I think I saw one!” she said.

“Probably.” Doug said. “All sorts of things live down in those burrows. Rattlesnakes. Gopher frogs. Indigo snakes. Mice. Even owls.”

“Hmm. Did I tell you that twenty-five coral snakes live under my house, I mean, my aunt’s house?”

“Considering we just met a minute ago . . . no. And I doubt that. Coral snakes are solitary.”

“Shows you what you know, Nature Boy. I’ve seen ’em.”

“Are you sure they aren’t king snakes?”

“My aunt said so. Corals. That’s what she called them.”

“Well, they must just be under there hunting mice. They are solitary.”

“You don’t know it all. Hey, there’s another burrow.”

“And there’s the tortoise over there,” Doug pointed across the clearing. “Looks like a really old one.” The tortoise’s shell was a glossy gray color and elegantly sculpted. His head reminded Olivia of an old man. The tortoise was slowly chomping on a cactus.

“They eat those things?” Olivia exclaimed.

The tortoise looked up. Its beak was covered with red berries of some kind.

“Get ’em!” Olivia shouted and took off running.

“No, wait!” Doug shouted back.

Olivia sprinted across the sand, convinced that she had the old tortoise cornered, but it turned and bolted into its burrow with amazing quickness.

“You are never going to catch one that way, dummy. Besides, why can’t you just leave him alone?” Doug continued his lecture. “It’s a little-known fact that no matter how fast you run or how quietly you sneak around, you will never catch a tortoise that way. They are significantly faster than most people believe.”

“That thing is fast,” Olivia was still shouting, ignoring Doug. “I thought they were supposed to be slow. Gimmee a stick!” She peered down into the burrow. The burrow was so big that Olivia figured she could probably squeeze down there herself.

“No way. Just let him be. Besides, I just told you tortoises are fast. Do you have hearing problems?”

As she kneeled there, she could see the tortoise facing her down in the darkness. Olivia looked into his wise eyes. She reached down trying to grab him.

“Eh. I wouldn’t do that. There might be rattlesnakes down there,” Doug warned.

“Get up here, Mr. Gruffle,” Olivia ordered.

“Mr. Gruffle?” Doug asked. Olivia could name anything. She always thought of the perfect name for even the most mundane of things. She is the one, after all, who named Gnat “Gnat” even if their parents refused to spell it with a G.

“Yeah, Mr. Gruffle.” She looked at Doug like she wanted to add, “and do you want to make something of it?”

“Oooookay . . . put a flag on Mr. Gruffle’s house, please.” He handed her a red flag.

“You know, the animals sure are brave in Florida,” Olivia said as they started walking again.

“I dunno,” said Doug. “There are plenty of bears and panthers and rattlers out here and I never see them.”

“And corals. Lots of corals,” she responded with a smile.

“Yeah, for a solitary snake, I guess they are plentiful. You know, you never told me where you were from.”

“That is because you were rude. I’m from Wisconsin.”

“Sorry, I just never heard that accent before.”

“It’s all right,” she said, pulling some leaves off a small tree next to her. “You grow up around here?”

“Yup. Just down the road.”

“How many endangered species do you think are out here?” she asked.

“Well, the books say there are a bunch that haven’t been discovered yet. My plan is to discover a new animal. I have as good a chance out here as anyone. You get to name it yourself when you discover one, you know.”

“What are you going to name it?” Olivia asked.

“I don’t know yet. I suppose it depends on what I discover,” Doug responded. “I have ideas.”

“Well what are your ideas?” Olivia was getting irritated.

Doug turned red. “I dunno. . . .”

“You should have seen those chickens back there. They were definitely weird.”

“Looks like Dougie here has a girlfriend. The new Milligan girl.” Three large boys and a girl stepped out from behind some bushes. Two of the boys were carrying shotguns.

“Oh geez,” Doug said. “Come on, Larry, we are just walking through.”

“How many people are walking around out here in the middle of nowhere?” thought Olivia.

Olivia noticed that Larry was starting to grow facial hair and it was coming in patchy. He was clearly a few years older than anyone else. Later, Doug explained to Olivia that everyone in Lyonia called Larry Mutch and his brother Richard “the twins” even though Richard was born two years later. Their Dad had held Larry back a few years so he would be bigger than the other boys on the football team. He hadn’t held Richard back in school because he showed no athletic talent. In fact, he was particularly slow and clumsy. So the twins were in the same grade at school despite two years of age difference. No one dared argue with them over the issue.

Olivia learned the skinny boy’s name was Cucumber Nevels and that his buddies called him Cuke. He was as devious as Larry was dumb. Doug told her that Cuke must have decided years ago that he would be friends with the biggest, meanest boys who would then protect him. Doug was sure he was also trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records by growing the world’s longest mullet. Begonia Salt was the girl. She never said much, but she didn’t have to because she was on the football team herself, and not as a kicker but a linebacker.

“I’m Olivia,” she said, trying to be nice. She hadn’t learned yet that trying to be nice to this gang wouldn’t help matters.

“O . . . liv . . . ee . . . uh,” Cuke stretched out her name because he couldn’t think of anything else to make fun of. “How you like being a Milligan? You know, everyone around here thinks they are freaks. You better be careful.”

Olivia blushed.

“What are you guys doing out here anywhere? There is no hunting allowed. This is protected,” Doug asked.

“None of yer business,” Larry snipped. “But if it matters so much, we are huntin’ the Bobwhite Witch.”

“Who is Bob White?” Olivia asked, suddenly interested. The boys started laughing and slapping each other with exaggerated glee. Begonia didn’t crack a smile.

“Who is Bob White? Bobwhite is not a person, Einstein. Bobwhite is a bird-witch, a cannibal bird-witch and we aim to kill her. Who is Bob White! That’s classic!” Cuke snickered with his unnaturally high voice.

“You sure are dumb. Yer gonna fit right in with those Milligans,” Richard said, getting right in Olivia’s face.

“You know, you are the ugliest and smelliest thing I’ve seen in a while,” Olivia shot back.

“Nobody talks to my brother like that,” Larry lunged for her.

Doug stepped between them. “Leave her alone, Mutch.” He felt braver than ever before. It surged through him like a wave. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Whoa! Look at Corcoran getting tough now!” Cuke smirked. “You aren’t gonna cry for us today, Dougie Baby? Dontcha have a math class to teach or sumthin’?”

“Leave . . . her . . . alone,” Doug repeated. He started to regret jumping in. Richard slowly walked behind him.

Larry stared at Doug for a moment. Richard was getting on all fours behind Doug’s legs. “All right, Dougie. I won’t mess you up in front of your girlfriend. Summer is a long time. Try not to step on any more cactus, Milligan. Let’s go guys.” Larry shoved Doug as hard as he could. Just as Doug stumbled onto Richard’s back, Richard stood straight up, sending Doug end over end into the bushes. Begonia sneered and looked Olivia up and down as she walked past. Olivia swore she heard Begonia growl.

“Jerks,” Olivia said when she was sure they were out of earshot.

“Geez. You almost got us killed,” Doug said brushing himself off.

“I’ve never stood up to a bully before,” Olivia could barely breathe.

“Me neither.”

“What kind of name is Cucumber anyway?” Olivia chuckled, helping him pick up the scattered papers and flags.

“I dunno. If the Nevels had more kids, they would probably name them all after vegetables,” Doug said.

“Like lettuce.”

“Or cabbage.”

“His younger sister Tomato and older brother Artichoke,” Olivia laughed.

“The whole family is a salad.”

“You ever hear of the Bobwhite Witch?” Olivia asked.

“It’s just an old kid’s story. There are no such things as witches. Those guys are just too dumb to know any better,” Doug said.

“Well, what is it?” she asked, getting irritated.

“What is what?”

“The story.”

“It says that she can turn into a bobwhite whenever she wants and she has a covey of other bobwhites that follows her around. She steals babies, kills people at midnight, sneaks around your house at night peeking in windows, that sort of stuff. Hmmmm . . . here are some blueberries that the bears haven’t gotten yet.” He started picking the little berries and eating them. Olivia joined him. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until the first few berries squished between her teeth.

“These aren’t that great.”

“Better than nothing,” he said.

“So you don’t think the Witch is real? I mean, she could be real. You don’t really know.”

“My Mom says it’s nonsense,” he responded. “Chasing fairy tales doesn’t help me find a new species.”

“What time is it anyway?” she just realized how late it must be getting.

Doug looked at his watch. “Four o’clock.”

“Oh, no. I better get home. Aunt must be worried by now.”

They started walking at a faster pace. It really wasn’t such an ugly forest as Olivia had thought at first. In some places, clouds of rainbow-colored scarabs whirred up toward the sun. In some places, large blue birds flew in close to watch them walk by. One even landed briefly on Doug’s head. Doug showed her the Vomiting Holly, a tree whose leaves make even the most robust man vomit uncontrollably for hours and was once worshiped by the Indians. He showed her the poisonous coontie plant that those same Indians made their mealy bread out of.

“How do you know all this stuff?” she asked.

“You do realize that I’m a nerd, right?” Doug said, more of a statement than a question.

“I . . . I guess so,” Olivia felt guilty for saying it. Doug smiled a little.

They walked quietly for the next fifteen minutes until reaching the Milligans’ fence.

“Thanks for helping me, Nature Boy. You know, my Dad won’t be here to pick me up for a few days. I wouldn’t mind helping you find more tortoise burrows tomorrow. I mean, if you want.”

“Yeah. That would be cool. Meet me at Mr. Gruffle’s tomorrow at ten,” he said with a wink.

“OK. Deal.”

Olivia snuck through the fence and ran to the side of the house. She found the curving trail of the coral snakes in the sand. From out of her pocket, she pulled a handful of blueberries and left them right in the middle of their path. She heard thunder and it started to rain even though the sun was still shining. As she ran inside, she looked back to the place in the forest where Doug left her. The raindrops were shining in the sun, igniting the trees with a billion sparkling lights.

“Excuse me young lady,” Aunt started scolding her as soon as she walked in the door. “Where have you been?” Cheeto bolted out of the next room, yelping uncontrollably. He crowded around her, sniffing.

“I was just walking around,” Olivia lied. “Hi, Cheeto! You remember me!”

“You were just walking around for six hours? Listen, don’t go running off like that without telling us. I was worried sick. Oh my! And look at your legs!” she noticed the dried blood. “Come into the bathroom. We can fix that.”

In the bathroom, Olivia jumped up on the countertop. Aunt grabbed a tweezers and started pulling the little cactus hairs from her skin. Her legs were itching like crazy.

“You didn’t touch your eyes did you?” Aunt asked.

“No. Doug told me . . .” she paused, knowing her secret was out. “Doug told me not to.”

“Doug, huh?” Aunt asked, smiling. “Doug Corcoran?”

Olivia nodded.

“Well, he’s a nice boy. I know his mom from the library. Just be careful if you are going to be running around out there. And don’t go without telling me or your uncle again.”

“All right,” she said rolling her eyes. “Ow! Hey. Did Dad call?”

“I’m sorry, hon. Not yet.”

“Well, he will tonight when he gets home from work. Ow! Where’s Gnat?”

“Nathan hasn’t left the couch or his video game all day.”

“Figures. Right now, I wish you had a TV.”

“There, I think I got all of them,” Aunt said as Olivia jumped down. “You know, Olivia, I’m really glad you are here. It’s been so quiet around here. You remind me of your mother when she was your age.”

Olivia stared at her feet. She didn’t know what to say.

“Go ahead and take a shower and use lots of soap to get any spines I might have missed,” Aunt said as she left the room, leaving Olivia to ponder how to turn on a shower with no knobs and only a nasty, old showerhead hanging straight down from the ceiling.

After dinner, Olivia skimmed the index of The Field Guide to North American Birds that she found in the bookshelf. B . . . Bobwhite, Northern . . . Colinus virginianus . . . page 47. She flipped through the book to page 47. A chill went down her skin. It was a picture of the brown chicken in the woods. Olivia quickly looked around. It was dark outside the windows. The witch could be staring at her right now and she wouldn’t even know. Gnat was sitting on a big overstuffed couch playing another video game. Cheeto was sprawled by the door. A huge colorful mask that Aunt said was from Bali stared over them all. It seemed so quiet inside. Safe. Weird, but safe.

Uncle came into the room. “Let’s have a story,” he announced.

“Eh –,” Olivia countered. Gnat didn’t move a muscle except for his fingers on the game.

“Let’s have a story!” he boomed. He walked over to Gnat and lifted the headphones off his ears. “A stor . . . y!” Uncle would not be denied. He jumped onto the couch between them. Something down deep in the cushions snapped.

“What I’m going to tell you is completely true and I’ve never told another soul,” he began.