Sky Page 9

  ‘Hey, Sky!’ Lucy smiles, ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Oh my God,’ I blurt out, feeling tears sting again, ‘you won’t believe what I just saw.’

  I want to tell Lucy everything, but can I trust her? I haven’t just broken rules, I’ve broken the law: trespassed and stolen an animal from private property.

  Anyway, Marissa is crazy about Princess so she must be an animal lover. She may not be totally into me, yet, but if I tell her with Jules too … I hope she’ll know what to do.

  ‘What did you see?’ Lucy asks, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

  ‘Lucy!’ someone shouts from behind a tree. ‘You won’t believe the nest in these branches. What a find.’

  ‘My dad,’ Lucy explains. ‘But Sky, what happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, don’t worry,’ I say.

  ‘A friend from school?’ Lucy’s father holds a pair of binoculars. ‘Hello there, I’m Mark,’ he extends his hand.

  ‘Are you also a birder?’ Mark asks. ‘I try to contain myself to birding, not twitching.’

  ‘A twitcher is just a bird-watching fanatic,’ Lucy explains. ‘Dad, this is Sky and she’s new at my school.’

  ‘Yes, yes, from the email.’ he says. ‘So sorry, Sky, I heard about your mother …’

  Seriously? Is there no privacy in this town? I can’t bear to talk about Mum with others at the moment. She’s my treasure and I don’t want to share.

  I quickly change the subject. ‘There’s so many amazing birds around here.’ I try to act normal despite smelling like a chicken poo. ‘I love the Honeyeaters, I saw some yesterday in our garden.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to check out our bird cages,’ Mark says.

  ‘Cages?’ I ask.

  ‘Full of the most wonderful birds. You’re welcome to come over,’ Mark says.

  ‘We can make cookies; I love baking,’ Lucy nods enthusiastically.

  Why would I want to see birds snatched from the wild and locked in cages? I bite my lip and I’m really glad I didn’t tell her.

  Am I the only person who actually likes animals? I have already seen one bird nightmare. I certainly don’t need another.

  I excuse myself, promising Lucy to do some baking with her soon.

  I make it home. Luckily Paula’s busy in the kitchen. Bella is desperate for a cuddle.

  ‘Shh, Bella, not now …’ I open the hallway closet to find her a big chewy treat. Happily distracted, I quickly close my bedroom door and take out the chick.

  ‘Have some water, you must be thirsty,’ I offer him the glass beside my bed, but he seems happy to just sit on my lap.

  I try googling and searching for info, but no luck. My rush of adrenalin has faded and I suddenly feel exhausted. I can’t concentrate on the computer like usual and it doesn’t help that my hands are shaking slightly making me type ‘chifj’ rather than ‘chick’. I have to tell someone because this secret is too much for me alone.

  I need help. Just as I’m about to text Melody, a message pops up from her. ‘Sorry, love, can’t make it, crazy-busy month and have to head south to a rainforest action, promise to come soon, how’s country life treating you? Hang in there.’

  I’m too pissed off to reply. Who else can I ask? I message WildRider, deciding to confess since he doesn’t really know me: ‘I’ve taken a baby chick from a farm, long story, but it was horrible there. Didn’t mean to, really, but anyway– any advice? Can’t find anything online. PS. Top Secret’

  Moments later he messages back. ‘No worries, how old?’

  ‘A few days max,’ I write.

  ‘Hold on,’ he says, and I stroke the chick and wait.

  ‘U need a box, towel, water, birdseed, and something warm – got a heat lamp?’

  I reply with a sad face.

  ‘Hot water bottle will do the trick,’ he links me to a fact sheet on caring for newborn chicks.

  ‘Lifesaver,’ I write, so glad to have a friend like him.

  I lie down on my bed. My head is spinning. Today has been crazy. I literally felt Mum with me, in my bones. And, I did something crazier than I have ever done, but I know one hundred percent it was right. I feel brave. I feel strong.

  Scenes with Oliver flash in my mind. If only I could meet WildRider, that would help me forget Oliver and how much I like him. WildRider and I have so much in common and I just know he’s cute behind that big dog nose that’s blocking my view on Instagram. I can feel it. Is there a chance he lives somewhere close by? Even if it’s a few hours away, I wouldn’t mind. I’d convince David to take me on a road trip. Should I ask him where he lives? Why not? Today I’m doing things I would never usually do.

  ‘Just do it.’ I tell myself. I message him. ‘Where do you live, if it’s not too far away, maybe I can show you the little chick in person? He’s beyond adorable. It’d be cool to actually meet each other anyway.’ I add an upside down smiley face to keep the mood light.

  I stare at the screen, but after five minutes give up;he hasn’t responded. I curl up on my bed, exhausted again. WildRider’s probably rushed off to do something important. And I have important things to do too, so I sit up, and turn my attention back to the chick.

  I have to find some birdseed and a hot water bottle.

  ‘Sky, you in there?’ Paula says, knocking and opening the door at the same time.

  I quickly fold my skirt over the chick.

  ‘Didn’t hear you come in,’ Paula says. ‘How are you, good day at school?’

  ‘Okay,’ I say.

  ‘Have fun in town?’

  ‘Not bad,’ I answer.

  ‘You’re a wealth of information,’ she sighs. ‘I never told my mum about my day either, but I do want to know about you, Sky. And I want to tell you about me, too. Like, how I started off in West Creek and made it my home or,’ she pauses, ‘my whole journey trying to conceive and have a successful pregnancy.’

  I’m still upset about her calling me a ‘responsibility’ and wanting a ‘child of her own’ like I’m no one. But this isn’t the time for a deep and meaningful. If she finds the chick, I’m in huge trouble. I have to think fast.

  ‘I want to hear it all and everything,’ I say, ‘but can we talk tomorrow? I have really bad period cramps and just need to lie down a bit.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie,’ Paula says, ‘of course. Tomorrow. Can I get you anything? A nice cuppa tea?’

  ‘No, I’m good. Just want to rest a bit. See you later?’

  ‘Sure,’ she gets up. ‘One last thing, I’m so glad you’re studying with Marissa, it’s great to have a homework partner; how’s the project getting along?’

  ‘Fine,’ I say, wishing she would disappear already, ‘I got a bunch of brochures and it’s nearly done.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to rest,’ she leans over to kiss me on the forehead. ‘What on earth?’ she notices my filthy stockings. ‘Did something happen to you?’

  ‘No,’ I say; the chick is wiggling under my skirt and I take a pillow and place it carefully on top. How am I going to explain myself? This scenario is going downhill fast and I’m scared and I don’t want to have another fight with Paula, but she is the last person I want to tell. She’ll probably start crying. Then she’ll be angry and disappointed because I’ve lied to her when I promised not to go the farm. And for sure she’ll tell on me and then I’ll never win the competition and then I won’t have a dress for the gala. There are a billion other good reasons to not tell her.

  Paula looks at my lap and back at me; her face is a question mark.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she says. ‘Did you get into a fight, is that why you’re feeling sore?’

  ‘Fight,’ I repeat, stalling for time. ‘Umm … Well … it really wasn’t a big deal,’ I say, ‘just a bunch of kids fighting over …’ I wrack my brains for something believable, ‘recycling.’ That sounds ridiculous.

  ‘What on earth?’ Paula says, almost laughing.

  ‘We were learning about recycling bins,’ I sa
y, ‘and then some of the boys decided to … you really don’t want to know. I probably need to jump into the shower.’

  ‘Sky,’ she says, serious again. ‘I would really like to talk for just a moment and finish our last conversation, you know, about me trying to get pregnant. I’m worried you’re upset.’

  ‘I’m totally fine with it.’ I say. I need her to leave the room. Like, now. Before she discovers the chick.

  ‘But tell me how you feel,’ she persists, coming over all Dr Phil. ‘You said you don’t like babies, is there a reason?’

  ‘No, I was just in a really bad mood,’ I lie. ‘You know, teenage mood swing, I get kind of crazy. I love babies. Congratulations.’

  Paula smiles and squeezes my shoulder, ‘Well, that’s a relief,’ she getting up. I’ll leave you to get showered, sweetie,’ she says.

  At that moment, Bella bursts through the door, all tail-wagging, desperate to see me. She stops at my lap and starts sniffing ferociously. I try and push her away as Paula watches, slightly perplexed. Then Bella sits down and stares in the direction of the hidden chick and begins to whine.

  ‘Shh, Bella!’ I say, turning to Paula. ‘Some of the containers had meat inside, she’s probably smelling that.’

  ‘A little more dog-training wouldn’t go astray,’ Paula says as she leaves, seemingly satisfied. ‘Just popping to the shops, back in ten.’

  Perfect. I wait to hear the car leave. Alone in the house, I rummage through the bathroom cupboards for a hot water bottle. Nothing. I should have asked Paula, it fitted perfectly with my period cramps lie.

  I sneak into Paula and David’s room, feeling more than a little guilty. I look in their drawers and even under the bed. Bingo, I uncover a dusty hot water bottle. I also see a shoebox filled with old photographs and slide it out. I sit on the floor flicking through, my ears tuned to any sounds of Paula or David returning home. There’s a couple of photos of my mum back in her university days. I stare at them, taking in her hippy clothes and shiny hair. But I can’t afford to sit too long. I kiss her face quickly, push the box back under the bed and close the door. I boil the kettle, find a cardboard container by the garbage bins, tear up some old newspaper and take a tea towel from the drawer. I check the fact sheet again and mix the hot water with tap water to a perfect temperature, warm but not scalding, and then wrap the hot water bottle with the tea towel.

  I open my cupboard and move some clothes around.

  ‘It won’t be for long, just rest and hang out,’ I say, putting the chick in the box with a plastic container of water. Now I need food. I figure the chick must have already eaten something today and hope he can wait until the morning when, somehow, I’ll find some. I must.

  My phone beeps and I rush to check WildRider’s response, but it’s just Lucy.

  ‘Just checking u r OK?’ she writes.

  ‘Fine,’ I reply, glad I didn’t tell her about the chick. She’s the opposite of an animal lover, snatching birds from the wild. How could I have got her so wrong?

  ‘And remember the project’s the competition,’ she says, reminding me, as usual, about things for school.

  Damn, I didn’t take a single picture at the farm, I was so overwhelmed. Not that I could have used it anyway; talk about incriminating evidence

  Lucy texts again. ‘It’s due next week, if u want help, I’m here.’

  ‘No thanks,’ I respond. If Marissa finds out that I’m seeing any more of Lucy than I already do in Landcare, I’ll be kicked out.

  ‘OK’ Lucy writes. ‘Let me know if u want to come over and see the birds soon. Or bake cupcakes.’ She adds a cupcake emoji.

  No way.

  At dinner, I keep checking my phone secretly, but no word from WildRider. Doesn’t he want to meet me? Have I been too clingy and he’s sick of me already?

  Bella whines outside my bedroom door and I make up more excuses for her behaviour. I know she can smell the chick even through the closed door and cupboard. As we eat, I lie to David and Paula about what Marissa and I did in town, embellish the ridiculous story about the recycling fight, and feel awful about the lies. And really scared. What am I going to do with a tiny stolen chicken?

  I’ll tell Marissa tomorrow and that will make everything better. Oliver seems to know a few things about chickens, but I know I shouldn’t talk to him anymore.

  I’m still on probation.

  Chapter 14

  ‘David, do you happen to have any …’ I follow him out to the truck after breakfast, away from Paula’s earshot. ‘Birdseed?’

  ‘Remember, call me Dave,’ he says.

  ‘Oh, okay, Dave,’ I say.

  ‘Well, let me think, birdseed …’ he scratches the back of his neck.

  ‘Only if you have extra,’ I say. Maybe he has some for his landscaping work to attract the birds to the trees he’s planting. Sounds far-fetched, but worth a shot.

  ‘Might be a leftover bag from a job, let’s check.’ He walks towards the garage. ‘Got some wild birds you’re feeding? Better not give them—’

  ‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘No birds.’ All the lying is making me feel bad.

  ‘No birds, huh? Taken to eating seeds yourself then? Don’t tell me you’re doing some sort of no-carbs cleanse, please!’ David laughs.

  ‘No way,’ I say, trailing behind as we enter the garage shed. ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘Then,’ David says, ‘you must be selling them off, there’s a black market for seeds at your school? Deals behind the toilet block, do kids still hang out there these days getting up to no good?’ He grins at me. ‘I’ll have to take a cut in that case.’

  ‘Ha ha.’ I smile, hoping he’ll drop the questions. I really don’t want to lie to him again.

  ‘Here’s the bag,’ David pulls a large sack from behind a rusty piece of farm machinery and I feel my shoulders relax. The little chick will have some proper food.

  ‘Sorry, mate.’ He peers inside and turns it upside down. ‘Completely empty.’

  I shrug as if I don’t care. But I’m desperate. I can’t leave him the whole day without food. And I have to get to the bus stop soon or I’ll be late for school.

  Who can help? WildRider. He still hasn’t replied to the question about where he lives, but I can’t worry about personal issues now. This is about an animal’s survival. I message him.

  ‘I’ll check,’ he replies and moments later my phone beeps again, ‘You can puree tomatoes or try lettuce. Not great for chicks, but if it’s the only choice, it’s fine for a day. Maybe u should find the chick a home, like a bird carer? There’s probably wildlife rescuers close to you.’

  I open the fridge door, searching for vegetables, confused why WildRider is being so helpful when he clearly isn’t interested in ever meeting me.

  I grab a lettuce leaf from the fridge, tear it into tiny strips and put it into the chick’s box.

  ‘Bye, little chick.’ I kiss him quickly. ‘I mean, Chirp.’ The name suits him.

  I just make the bus and flop down onto the back seat, already worn out, and the day hasn’t even started yet.

  I fiddle with my charm bracelet, as the bus bumps and turns, planning my moves. I have to get birdseed, but from where? I’ll talk to Marissa, I have to believe she’ll help and even if she’s a meanie to people, she’s a sweetie to animals. Anyway, Jules will help convince her, I’m sure. And it may have been different circumstances, but Marissa knows more than the others what it feels like to break the rules. With the three girls trusted with my secret I won’t feel so alone. Maybe it will strengthen our friendship and they’ll finally accept me as one of them. Maybe my probation will be over.

  ‘Marissa’s not at school today. Stomach bug,’ Kristy tells me. But Jules texts me, top secret, that Marissa and her mum drove all the way to Sydney to do a dress fitting for the gala.

  Jules always fills me in on what the others won’t say. I reply with, ‘I have something to tell you, it’s really important, can you meet me?’ But before I send it I del
ete it. I can’t tell Jules about Chirp without Marissa. Marissa runs the show and she’s the one who will take charge. I try not to panic as I think of Chirp imprisoned in my cupboard with only lettuce. If I can’t tell Marissa, Jules and Kristy and ask for their help, I’m on my own. But that’s okay. I know what I need to do. Firstly, birdseed and next, a better place for him to live – where he can flap his little wings, peck wriggly worms from the soil and feel the summer breeze ruffle his feathers.

  But where?

  One problem at a time.

  ‘Do you know where I can buy birdseed?’ I whisper to Lucy during class. ‘For a baby bird. Does the vet or the pet shop—’ I have no idea how I’m going to scrape together money for birdseed or hide a large bag from Paula when I get home.

  ‘We have heaps,’ she interrupts. ‘I’ll give you some. Why do you need it?’

  Luckily Mr Peterson shushes us and to avoid her questions I steer clear of Lucy until the afternoon. I also dodge Oliver a couple of times who seems to want to talk to me as well. It’s hard, but I’m not taking any chances of getting too close to him.

  ‘I’ll be late home,’ I text Paula.

  ‘Okay, what are you doing, sweetie?’ she replies.

  I don’t answer. It’s none of her business.

  Lucy and I take the bus and it stops outside an old house. The front entrance is a graveyard of broken umbrellas, raincoats and old sun hats. I step over some muddy rain boots stuffed with a pair of crusty socks.

  ‘I told you,’ she says, pointing to several huge bags of birdseed blocking the entrance.

  ‘I’ll fill a bag for you, but first, come and see the cages.’

  ‘That’s okay, I’d better head back because there’s another bus in ten minutes,’ I say. I don’t feel like hanging out with Lucy. I barely want to see her now I know she’s not only a nerd but also an animal-catcher.

  ‘I’ll get a plastic bag,’ Lucy says, opening the front door.

  ‘Is that you, Lucy?’ a man calls out. ‘Could you give me a hand quickly?’ There’s a loud crash and he swears.

  ‘Just a sec,’ she rushes into the house and through the back doors. Reluctantly, I follow her.