Mister Cassowary (4 page)

‘Are you okay?' Abby cried, flinging her bike down and peering worriedly at my foot.

Blood oozed from a small hole on my ankle. ‘I had this slug-thing sucking my skin,' I explained. ‘But it's fallen off.'

‘Show me,' Abby commanded. ‘What slug?'

I turned my crimson sock inside out. The slug wriggled free.

‘Oh, it's a leech.' Abby giggled, pushing her hair from her eyes as the leech flip-flopped onto the grass. ‘No wonder there's so much blood.'

‘A leech?'

‘They look terrible, but they're pretty harmless really,' said Abby. ‘Where did it come from?'

I flicked my sock, just in case there was another one hiding in it. ‘It was on my foot this morning. Maybe it crawled into my sock yesterday when I was over there in the swamp.' I pointed to the trees past the lawn.

‘The swamp? I thought your dad didn't let you out of his sight?'

‘Yeah, well, he doesn't know everything. Is it really a leech?' I poked the slimy body with the end of a nearby stick.

Abby rolled her eyes, like the question wasn't worth answering. ‘Duh. Don't you people from Brisbane know anything? Course it is. We get them all the time.' Abby slid her legs into the splits and once she was all the way down on the grass, she held her arms out in front of her, like a ballet dancer. ‘So, what were you doing in the swamp?' she asked.

‘Nothing,' I said, a little too quickly.

‘I don't believe you,' she insisted, her eyes narrowing. ‘Why's your face red?'

I turned to hide my guilt. Was she always this bossy? ‘I found something, that's all,' I murmured.

Abby fell out of the splits and sat up, turning her head to me as if she were balancing a crown.

Over in the shed, I heard the tractor start up. Good. Dad would be busy for a while. ‘What did you find?' Abby demanded, bringing her face close to mine. She smelt like strawberry bubblegum and sunscreen.

I chewed my lip. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share my secret. But then, maybe she could tell me more about caring for the babies. ‘Cassowary chicks,' I admitted.

Abby's mouth dropped open. ‘Chicks? Are you sure? Where?'

‘In the swamp. And here. In Grandad Barney's garden.'

‘Why didn't you tell me?'

‘I am telling you.'

‘How many?' She pivoted around, looking in the long grass. ‘How big were they?'

‘There were two. And they were about,' I held my hand above the ground at the height of a 30 cm school ruler, ‘this high.'

Abby grinned. ‘Wait till I tell Pop. And Cathy. Did you see their dad?'

The thud of the cassowary hitting our car echoed in my ears. My chest grew tight. ‘There was no dad,' I croaked.

‘What? But the dad's always around somewhere. You just didn't see him, that's all. Cassowaries can be very shy.'

‘Well, I saw them yesterday, and there was no dad then. And they were just here, and there was still no dad.'

‘What, they were here today?'

‘Yeah, a second ago. Pecking around my feet.'

‘You weren't feeding them, were you?'

My eyes fell to the ground. ‘No.'

‘You were so! Look, your face's gone red again. You can't feed them! What if a cassowary starts attacking you? You could get scratched to death over a rotten tomato.'

I straightened my shoulders. ‘They won't attack me,' I replied. ‘They like me.'

‘Don't you remember what I said about your grandad? Big Blue was probably cute when he was a chick, too. But when cassowaries get older, and they think everyone carries food, things go wrong. What do you reckon the other cassowaries will do when they discover that you're handing out free breakfast?'

‘But the babies need me,' I persisted. ‘I'm teaching them. They don't know how to look after themselves without their dad.'

‘You can't feed cassowaries, Flynn!' Abby wedged her hands firmly onto her hips. ‘It's against the law. We need to tell Cathy. She'll look after them.'

‘But
I'm
looking after them.'

‘I mean properly. At the rehab centre. Cathy and the other rangers know what the cassowaries need. They look after orphans and injured cassowaries all the time. You can't just feed them 'cause they're cute.'

My face grew hot. I loved Peanut and Jumble. I didn't want them shipped off to some rehab centre. But then, a thought occurred to me. I glanced sideways at Abby.

‘So, at the centre,' I began, ‘they look after injured cassowaries, right?
All
injured cassowaries?'

Abby pursed her lips and looked at me as if I were an annoying puppy needing to be reminded not to bark. But then she nodded. ‘Uh huh.'

‘So, if the dad of my cassowary chicks is there, we could take his babies back to him, couldn't we?'

‘Yeah, if he's there. But what if he's not? He could be in the forest somewhere, dead.'

My heart lurched. Please don't let him be dead. ‘What if he's injured and can't get back to the rainforest?' I said, hating the pleading tone of my voice. ‘Wouldn't the rangers have found him by now?'

‘What are you talking about?' Abby demanded.

I took a deep breath. ‘It's our fault the chicks have no dad.'

‘What do you mean?'

I couldn't look Abby in the eyes. The words formed on my lips, but the sound wouldn't come out. ‘We … we hit one,' I finally blurted.

‘You what?'

‘We hit a cassowary. On the way here. It ran into the middle of the road, and Dad couldn't slow down in time.' I crunched my hands into fists to stop myself from crying.

Abby pushed her hair from her face. ‘Was it okay?'

‘I don't know. Dad said it was too dangerous to get out of the car. But he called the rangers as soon as we got here, and they said they were going to look for it.'

‘Did they find it?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Don't you know
anything
? Have you even told your dad about the chicks? If you do, he could call Cathy and ask if they've found the injured cassowary. If he tells her about the chicks, then she could—'

‘I haven't told Dad.'

Abby's lips were thin. ‘How come?'

‘My dad's funny about cassowaries. They're not his favourite conversation topic. Anyway, I thought …' My whole face grew warm. I hadn't planned on sharing my idea, and here I was spitting it all out. ‘I thought, if Dad let me go to the working bee with you and Walter, then I could look for the cassowary we hit, and try to work out if he's the dad of my chicks.' There, I'd said it. I just wished my eyes weren't feeling so prickly.

Abby scratched her head. ‘How will you know he's their dad just by looking at him?' she said.

I hadn't thought of that. I shrugged while Abby brushed off her shorts and turned towards the swamp.

‘You said the swamp, right? Let's go check the chicks are okay first.' She sounded just like my teacher.

‘But Dad will be back any minute. He doesn't like me to—'

‘Come on. It won't take long.' Abby took off, with me trailing after her, my stomach twisting. Dad would never trust me again if he found out I'd been feeding cassowaries. I'd only just convinced him I wasn't five.

‘Wait!' I raced around and stood in front of Abby. ‘If I show you, promise not to tell anyone? At least until we know for sure what's happened to their dad?'

The tractor throbbed in the distance. Dad was still busy. For now.

‘Promise?'

Abby tried to pass me, but I blocked her path.

‘I don't need you to show me,' she huffed. ‘I'll find them myself.'

I held my arms out wide. ‘No. You have to promise.'

‘Okay, okay! I won't tell anyone. Promise.'

Abby followed me through the long grass towards the swamp.

‘They like to play hide-and-seek,' I said when we'd found a dry place to stand. ‘Near those trees, over there.'

We peered across the gravy-like pools.

‘I can't see anything,' said Abby.

‘Maybe they're a bit further down.'

The rainforest was much thicker past the swamp. It smelt of rotting leaves and mud and was crowded with ferns and palm fronds that twirled like windmills. The air was hot and heavy, like when I'd had a hot shower and forgotten to put on the exhaust fan. We stepped over fallen branches covered in green moss and ducked under hanging vines twisting like party streamers above us.

I stopped, frozen, as something wailed in the tree above us. It sounded like a baby.

‘It's only a catbird, silly,' said Abby, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind her.

Thick tree trunks disappeared up towards the light. Down below, their winding roots were like octopus arms twisting around our feet.

‘Watch out!' cried Abby, pulling me away.

In the tree beside me a mass of tiny green bodies seethed in the dim light. The hairs on my neck stood up.

‘Green ants,' Abby explained. ‘If you disturb them, the whole lot will bite you. It'll hurt like crazy.'

‘Thanks,' I said as a loud crack echoed in the distance. ‘What was that?' I whispered, my heart thudding.

‘Riflebird,' chuckled Abby. ‘Completely harmless.' She skirted a mound of dirt that looked like a giant egg. ‘You really don't know anything about the rainforest, do you? That's a termite nest, in case you were wondering. Come on, let's try looking over here.'

My feet crunched the leaves around the egg.

‘Oh, and watch out for that,' Abby cautioned, pointing to a vine. ‘It's a wait-a-while vine. If it grabs you, it won't let you go.'

I clamped my arms to my body. There were deathtraps everywhere. No wonder Dad had said this place was dangerous. ‘I think we should go back.' I couldn't
hear Dad's tractor over the cicadas' relentless buzz. ‘We
would've seen the chicks by now, if they were here.'

But Abby kept walking.

‘Abby! They're not here.'

She turned, scrunching up her nose. ‘Are you sure they were cassowary chicks? I mean, if they were just plovers or something, they might have flown away?'

I scratched a mosquito bite on my arm. ‘They weren't plovers. They were too big. They looked like monster chickens. Come on, we can search again tomorrow.'

Abby shrugged. ‘Well … if you're sure. I just feel sorry for the babies …'

‘Yeah, I know,' I muttered. ‘Me too. If we could find out what's happened to their dad, then maybe we could help them.'

We were nearly back at the swamp when Abby pointed to a tree to my right. ‘Stinging tree,' she said. ‘One brush and you're dead.'

I held my arms down straight and walked stiffly like a wooden soldier.

A flash of blue caught my eye. I blinked, hoping to see an adult cassowary, but instead a vibrant butterfly flitted between the leaves.

‘That's a Ulysses butterfly,' Abby said. ‘Pretty, hey?'

The catbird cried overhead.

‘Hurry,' I said. ‘My dad will be freaking out.'

Abby marched ahead, skirting the edges of the swamp. She was nearly around it when a bird darted out in front of me.

‘Ouch!' I cried, falling hard on my side. When I sat up, my hammering heart froze.

‘Flynn!' Dad towered over me. ‘I told you it's not safe out here!' He reached down and hauled me off the ground.

‘Dad!' I cried. ‘Let go! You're hurting me.'

‘Sorry, Mr Hutchinson,' called Abby, as she ran over to us. ‘It was my fault.'

Beyond her I could just make out the blue bricks of the house. We'd nearly made it.

‘It's just that I wanted to see the—'

I shot Abby a look. She'd promised.

‘—the … um … the Ulysses butterfly,' she stammered. ‘We started following it and …'

Dad released his grip on my shoulders. ‘A butterfly? Well at least the two of you are safe, I suppose. Come on, let's get you cleaned up. Abby, perhaps it's time to go home? Is that your bike I saw in the garden?'

As soon as Abby had ridden off, I apologised to Dad. ‘I won't do it again,' I muttered, staring at my muddy shoes.

‘Flynnie, I've got too much to do to be chasing after you, mate. You were the one telling me how responsible you are. And now you've gone wandering off.'

My stomach sank. I'd be banned from doing anything ever again. Dad would make me a prisoner in the house for the rest of the holidays, or worse, keep me right by his side, permanently.

‘Sorry, Dad. I just got bored, that's all.'

‘Bored? Flynn, there's tonnes of stuff to do around here. You can come out with me and pick up the old plastic from around the banana plants if you like. Or—'

‘I want to find out what happened to that casso
wary. The one we ran over.'

‘Is that what this is about? You have to put it behind you, Flynn. It's happened. Over. Nothing you can do about it.'

‘But if we go to the working bee, we can ask them. They take injured birds all the time at the rehab centre, and … Please can we go, Dad? I promise I'll help you heaps till then.'

Dad flinched as if the mention of the centre was like being stabbed in the arm with a fork. ‘We're not going, Flynn. That's the last place I want to be. Come on, let's get you in the shower.'

I hesitated. I couldn't just put it behind me. The chicks needed someone to care for them.

‘Could we at least call the rangers?' I asked. ‘See if they found that cassowary?'

Dad's eyes were almost popping out of his head. ‘Flynn! Enough!' he exploded. ‘I don't want to hear any more! Into the shower with you, then straight to your room until dinner. Is that clear?'

After dinner, Dad told me to call Mum. ‘She doesn't have work tonight, remember?' he said.

‘Hey, Mum,' I said, sitting on Grandad Barney's bed.

‘Hi, honey. How's it all going?'

‘Well …'

‘Dad says you've made a new friend. Is she nice?'

‘Dad won't let me do
anything
.'

‘Well, sometimes you
are
a bit too adventurous. How about you just help Dad? I'm sure he'd appreciate your help, rather than having to worry about you, on top of everything else.'

‘I've swept the verandas.'

‘That's what I'm talking about. Every little bit helps, just like at home.'

‘And I've weeded the garden bed.' I hesitated, listening out for Dad. ‘Mum?' I whispered.

‘Yes, hon?'

‘Can you come and get me?'

There was a pause. I pressed the mobile closer to my ear. I could hear Mum breathing.

‘No, Flynn,' she said quietly. ‘I can't. We spoke about this, remember? You just have to be patient. You know Dad's having a hard time being up there.'

I stared at the picture on the side table. ‘He won't let me go to the working bee.'

‘What working bee?'

‘At the rehab centre. Abby says it's fun. I really want to go. I need to learn more about chicks, and—'

‘Well, you'll have to work that out with Dad, honey. I've got to go. Give me a call tomorrow, okay?'

‘Okay. Bye, Mum.'

‘Bye, Flynn. Love you.'

‘Love you, Mum.'

I slumped back onto Grandad Barney's bed. I had to go to the working bee. How else would I find out about the cassowary we hit? I lay my head against the pillow. How was I ever going to convince Dad to let me go?

I stared at the photo of Grandad, Big Blue and Dad. That cassowary really was massive. Grandad must have fed him practically the whole farm of bananas. That reminded me, I had to find out what Peanut and Jumble eat. If I didn't look after them properly, they'd die of starvation without their dad. That would make Dad and me responsible for two more deaths, not just a possible
one
.

I pulled Grandad Barney's bird book out from under the bed.

Cassowaries are mostly found in rainforest, but also use woodlands, melaleuca swamps, mangroves, and even beaches both as food sources and connecting habitat. These huge birds, of which there may only be 1,000 left in the wild, are the only animals capable of distributing seeds of more than 70 species of rainforest trees.

A thousand left? Maybe that's why Grandad Barney was so keen to look after them.

It didn't say anything about what to feed chicks. Maybe if I looked up ‘food' in the index?

I flipped to the back and snatched the book closer. A yellowing newspaper article, dated two years ago, was glued to the inside cover.

Man Injured by Tame Bird

D
octors operated on Tully man Dudley McWraith
yesterday after he was attacked by a male casso
wary called Big Blue. The huge bird was thought to be protecting its eggs when Mr McWraith stumbled across it on a narrow bush path.

‘I didn't know Big Blue was there,' said Mr McWraith. ‘One minute I was out walking, the next I was pinned to the ground by these massive talons. I've
never been so scared in my life.'

Mr McWraith received 10 puncture wounds to his stomach, chest and legs, but is now recovering well in hospital. Rangers say the cassowary responsible for the attack should be relocated to a more suitable habitat until nesting season is over.

‘It isn't the first time Big Blue has attacked,' said Cathy Fitzgibbons, a ranger from the Cassowary Rehabilitation Centre. ‘Raised by our very own Mister Cassowary, this bird has become quite a threat in the area.'

Mister Cassowary? The picture next to the article was faded but, after looking closer, I had no doubt. Grandad Barney stood next to the very same cassowary in the photograph next to his bed. The article continued:

Nicknamed Mister Cassowary because of his efforts to save these endangered dinosaur-like birds, Barney Hutchinson said, ‘We've learnt a lot since I raised Big Blue. Tame cassowaries have more chance of being killed when they wander on roads and through suburbs, and adult birds can become very aggressive around people, looking for food. We now know feeding stations are more appropriate to feed cassowaries.'

Mr Hutchinson has developed and funded the Cassowary Rehabilitation Centre, just outside Mission Beach, to help sick, injured and orphaned cassowaries. Unfortunately this is all a little too late to help Mr McWraith.

I traced my finger over the picture. What had happened to Big Blue? Had he become more and more of a menace before finally attacking Grandad Barney? I had to get to the rehabilitation centre. It was the only way I'd find the answers.