Mister Cassowary (7 page)

At first I thought she was shouting at me. My face burnt. But then Abby tugged my arm. ‘Not you, silly, behind you!'

I froze. An adult cassowary was striding towards us. It had lost most of its feathers and pink skin shone through in patches. It was huge, but it looked thin. And hungry.

‘Don't run. And don't look it in the eye,' hissed Abby. ‘Just stand really, really still. Otherwise …'

I stood still like a statue, my pulse drumming in my ears. The cassowary kept coming, placing one enormous clawed foot deliberately in front of the other. I tried to take deep breaths. It was now only four steps away from me and Abby.

Three … Two … One …

The cassowary stood directly in front of me. It was so close that I could smell its wet feathers. I held my breath and gripped the rake tightly to my chest. Despite Abby's advice, I glanced up at its face.

It wasn't looking at me. It was staring over my shoulder at something else.

Someone else.

One … Two … Three …

I let a shaky breath out through my nose. The casso
wary walked steadily past me. But now it was headed towards the barbecue, its strange yellow-and-black eyes focused on Dad's back.

‘Dad!' I shouted. ‘Dad, be careful!' But Dad couldn't hear me above the chainsaw roaring across the road. He continued to turn the sausages with tongs like nothing was wrong. I had to get closer.

I took one step towards him. ‘Dad! There's a—'

‘Stand still!' hissed Abby.

The cassowary darted its head left and right and shook its remaining feathers. It was now only metres away from Dad. The cassowary puffed out its chest.

‘Dad!' I screamed. ‘Behind you!'

Dad finally turned around. When he registered the huge cassowary before him, his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. ‘Big Blue! What on earth?!'

Dad stepped backwards, bumping his bottom against the barbecue. He gripped the tongs tightly. They were his only weapon against Big Blue's murderous claws.

Big Blue raised his neck so that his face was level with Dad's. I watched, as if in slow motion, as he lifted one threatening foot …

‘STOP!'

I ran before I realised what I was doing. In an instant I stood between the world's most enormous cassowary and my dad. My stomach clenched as the black pupils of Big Blue's eyes stared right into mine. His sharp beak snapped at me.

‘Flynnie!' Dad lunged sideways, to dive in front of me, but Big Blue jumped and blocked his way. He wasn't letting Dad out of his sight.

‘Go away!' I bellowed, waving the rake. ‘Get lost!'

The cassowary opened its beak and hissed.

‘GO AWAY, BIG BLUE!' I yelled.

‘It's okay, Flynn,' yelled Abby. ‘Look!' Abby's voice trembled
almost as much as my knees.

Walter and Cathy were sneaking across the road, wearing what looked like cricket batting pads around their chests. Cathy carried a net so mammoth she had to hold it with two hands, and Walter ran with a strange plastic stick.

Big Blue inched closer to Dad and me. ‘It's okay,' whispered Dad, placing a shaking hand on my shoulder. ‘Walter knows what he's doing.'

‘Stand back!' shouted Walter, aiming the stick at the cassowary's leg. He pressed a button, and a tiny dart shot out, lodging deep into Big Blue's thigh.

I drew in a sharp breath as Big Blue looked around, his eyes fuzzy. His long legs wobbled and his head drooped. Then he swayed and almost fell on top of Dad and me. He tried to stretch his neck up again, but he had grown too weak.

Meanwhile, Walter and Cathy continued to creep towards us.

‘Here, chook,' Walter soothed. ‘We're not going to hurt you.'

Big Blue stumbled and spotted Cathy with the net. He tried to dive to the side, but his legs were too shaky. Cathy closed in quickly and slammed the net down over Big Blue's head. At the same time, Walter leapt forwards, using his body to pin the cassowary to the ground. Big Blue's eyes were big and wide and frightened.

A lump grew in my throat.

Seconds later Big Blue had gone limp. ‘Walter, you right to secure his legs?' said Cathy, trying to catch her breath. ‘I'll pop on the hood.'

Walter tied Big Blue's legs together with a noose-like rope while Cathy slipped a fabric hood over Big Blue's head.

‘We'll need a hand to lift him,' said Walter, looking hopefully at Dad. But Dad was frozen behind me.

‘Can we have some help here? Quick smart?' yelled Walter.

Volunteers appeared from all directions. They must have been watching from the safety of the surrounding bushes, and now, under Cathy's guidance, they positioned themselves around the cassowary while Walter counted, ‘One … Two … Three.'

They lifted the cassowary and carried him away. I
could hear them puffing as they passed us. Big Blue might have been skinny, but he seemed heavy.

When they were gone, Abby sprinted over but stopped short when she saw Dad.

‘Is he okay?' she whispered.

I turned to look. Dad was bent over double, taking in deep shaky breaths. His face was red and covered in sweat, and his eyes were staring straight ahead, not focusing on anything.

I ran over and put an arm around him. ‘Dad? Dad, it's gone now. We're safe.'

‘Lucky Walter's a ninja with the tranquiliser gun,' said Abby, her eyes glued to Dad. ‘That was pretty close.'

Dad was still making raspy noises with his breathing. I wished Mum were here to help.

‘Haven't seen Big Blue for a while,' Walter said, when he came back out. He looked worriedly at Dad. ‘You okay, Steve?' Finally Dad coughed and gave a half-hearted nod.

I rubbed his back, like Mum did when I wasn't
feeling well. ‘Was that cassowary really Big Blue?' I
asked.

‘The infamous Big Blue?' said Walter. ‘My word. No other cassowary has ever been so big. How old would he be now, Steve? Twenty-five? Thirty?'

Dad slowly straightened. His face was pale, and his hands were shaking.

‘Dad,' I whispered, stepping a little closer. ‘Walter just asked you a question.'

When Dad finally spoke, his voice was husky. ‘Thirty-two,' he murmured. ‘Ten years younger than me.'

Walter whistled. ‘And still the biggest cassowary around. Not looking too grand, is he? Something tells me the big fella's missing your grandad, Flynn.' He glanced over to the rehab centre. ‘Cathy's taking some bloods and we'll send them off to see what's wrong with his feathers. Poor bloke.'

‘And then what will they do with him?' I asked.

‘Depends on what's wrong. We might have him here for a while, I'd say. But one thing's for sure – he's not a well cookie.'

Lightning flashed in the distance and rain started to fall in big plops all around us.

‘Listen, you two,' said Walter, ‘you've both had quite a shock. How about coming inside to sit down?'

‘No, that's okay,' said Dad, swallowing hard. ‘I think Flynn and I might just head home. Any chance of a lift back to Dad's?'

‘Sure thing. Not a worry,' replied Walter, reaching to squeeze my shoulder. ‘Abby, you right to stay here?'

Abby smiled. ‘Of course, Pop. See ya later, Flynn. And don't worry about Big Blue. Cathy'll look after him.'

Waves thundered against the beach as we drove back towards Grandad Barney's farm. The palm trees bent further than ever, their leaves streaming like long hair in the wind. Cars raced past us, headlights blazing through the lashing rain, even though it was only one o'clock.

Walter glanced at Dad. He sat hunched in the passenger seat, his eyes glued to the road.

‘How about some music?' Walter turned on the radio. But instead of a song, an urgent newsflash filled the car.

‘Residents of Mission Beach have been warned to be prepared as Cyclone Peter creeps across from Fiji towards the north-Queensland coast. With winds of over 190 kilometres per hour, Peter is expected to hit as a category 2 sometime tonight. A spokesperson from the Bureau of Meteorology warns—'

Walter listened a little longer before turning down the volume.

‘Is it going to hit us?' I asked.

‘Hard to tell,' Walter replied. ‘In my experience, it
could come in anywhere along the coast. Cairns, Port Douglas, it's too early to predict, but by the looks of that wind out there, it's coming. Category 2 isn't exactly a big one, but you never know what might happen.'

*

The rain was teeming down by the time we pulled up at Grandad Barney's farm. ‘Got tape for the windows, Steve? Just in case?' asked Walter.

Dad nodded. ‘Yes,' he said, taking a deep breath. ‘We'll be right.'

Dad sounded nearly normal.

‘Okay, but take it easy all right? Bad shock you had today, nasty trip down memory lane. Make sure you give me a bell if you need anything, won't you?'

‘Will do,' said Dad.

‘Bye, Walter.' I opened my door, but then pulled it closed again as rain beat against my legs. ‘And thanks for saving us from Big Blue.'

Dad and I were soaked by the time we'd run into the house. I expected Dad to head straight to his room to dry off, but the minute Walter left he went into overdrive. He must have thought the cyclone was coming straight for us. Not to Cairns or Port Douglas. Straight for Mission Beach!

‘Can you phone Mum?' he said, handing me the mobile. ‘She rang while we were at the centre and I missed her calls. Tell her we might lose our signal if the cyclone hits.' Dad started closing all the windows, making sure they were latched tight. ‘She'll be worried if she doesn't hear from us for a while.'

A while? My heart thumped. How long did a cyclone take? I took the phone and headed to Grandad's bedroom.

‘I won't be long,' called Dad. ‘I'm just going to the shed to grab some tape.'

My fingers shook as I selected Mum's number. I
looked out the window as I waited for her to pick up. The trees were nearly horizontal, and the rain slashed down like daggers. I couldn't hear any birds. What would Peanut and Jumble do if there was a cyclone? How would they know they had to hide?

‘Hi, Mum. It's me, Flynn.'

‘I know it's you, honey. How are you?'

‘Okay, I guess. But there's a cyclone coming and Dad and I nearly died today.'

‘What!' exclaimed Mum.

‘Yeah. It was a cassowary. Not just any cassowary. The world's most giant cassowary. He was trying to chase after Dad, so I yelled at him and frightened him away with a rake. Dad was completely freaked out. But then Walter and Cathy came, and they darted the cassowary and took him away. It was really scary.'

‘Oh my goodness! Are you okay now?'

‘It was Big Blue, Mum. Grandad Barney's old cassowary.'

Mum gasped.

‘I think Dad went into shock. You know, like when that guy fell off his bike at the park? Dad was like him. Kind of weird. All shaky and out of it and everything.'

‘Can I speak to Dad, Flynn?'

‘No he's busy. That's why I'm calling. He's getting ready for the cyclone now.'

‘That's why I've been trying to ring.'

‘Mum, what if Grandad Barney's house blows away?'

‘Oh, honey, it won't blow away. The cyclone's not supposed to be too big. I hope it won't come anywhere near you. Just listen to Dad. He knows what he's doing. Don't forget, he used to live up there when he was your age. He's seen plenty of cyclones. Now, what have you got for tea? Maybe you could make something for Dad seeing as he's not feeling too good?'

‘Walter gave us shepherd's pie.'

‘Perfect. Well promise you'll make Dad eat something? And tell him to call me soon, okay? Don't worry, you'll be fine.'

‘Okay. Bye, Mum.'

‘Bye, honey.'

‘Want to give me a hand, mate?' Dad asked, ducking into the bedroom. His shirt and hair were soaking wet. ‘I don't know how long we've got, and I want to get these windows taped.'

He showed me how to stick tape across the windows to stop them from cracking. Then, while the wind howled and the house creaked, we packed a box with torches, candles, matches and an assortment of food.

When everything was ready, Dad sank into a chair at the kitchen table. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. ‘Sounds like it means business out there, doesn't it?' he mumbled. ‘Just what we need, more mess to clean up.'

I remembered Mum's suggestion and heated up the shepherd's pie. It wasn't really lunch, and it wasn't really tea, but it seemed like a good idea to eat it if a cyclone was coming. I pushed a loaded plate in front of Dad.

‘It's really yum,' I urged, taking a bite. ‘Nearly better than Mum's.'

Dad smiled a wobbly smile. He picked up a fork and held it over his plate.

‘Dad?' I said.

‘Yes, Flynnie?'

‘What do birds do in a cyclone?'

‘Pardon?'

‘Birds? What do they do?'

Dad pushed his fork into the mashed potato. ‘Um, birds, well birds seem to know when there's a cyclone and they take off inland somewhere.'

‘Even cassowaries?'

‘Don't know about cassowaries.'

‘So baby cassowaries wouldn't know there was a cyclone, would they? Do they maybe hide in a cave or something?'

‘Flynn, is there something you want to tell me?'

‘It's just that …'

Dad put down his fork and looked at me.

‘Um. No,' I murmured. I tried to eat my mashed potato but I couldn't swallow. Dad's breathing seemed loud in the silence that followed, despite the wind and rain outside. ‘So, was Big Blue … Did he … Was he the cassowary who …'

‘Stop asking me about cassowaries, Flynn! I think you should know by now that cassowaries are not my favourite animal.'

‘But why are you so frightened of them?'

‘Flynn!' shouted Dad, pushing his plate away. ‘For goodness sake! I don't want to talk about it!' He stood up, not having taken one mouthful of food. ‘I need to check the battery supply and double-check outside. Can I trust you with the dishes?'

Dad wrenched open the back door and slammed it hard behind him.