CHAPTER 14
THE STINGING NETTLE
Harry didn’t care that he was tired and wet, he was far too happy. To have something was good, but to lose something and find it again was better. Flossy and Larry were once dead to him, and he had mourned their deaths. Now they were alive!
A fire burned warmly in its hearth at the back of the Stinging Nettle where they had taken refuge from the rain. Warm air rolled over Harry, drying his fur and cheering his spirits. The smell of breakfast cooking in the kitchen reminded him how hungry he was. Larry and Flossy sat either side of him at a window booth, Larry against the wall. Reginald, who was far too large to enter, stood under the café’s broad veranda, his head protruding through an open window. His rump hung out in the rain but he assured everyone he was perfectly comfortable. ‘Elephants are happiest when wet,’ he said.
With one long leg the café’s owner mopped up a puddle from under their table. Head jerking as she worked, the ostrich waitress kept a wary eye on Flossy. Harry had failed to convince her that Flossy had no part in last night’s riot; that she was a victim not the perpetrator everyone believed.
When they arrived, the few customers in the café noticed Flossy immediately and tried not to stare. Like owls, humans were held in fascination and awe. Neither been seen in living memory and each shared a reputation for greatness and technological prowess. In the case of humans, it was said that before their civilisation went into decline they had machines that could fly and other machines that could move across the ocean when there was no wind. There were legends that owls and humans had fought with powerful weapons to occupy the last remaining oases of warmth as the Ice Age tightened its cold grip. Harry thought that most of the stories were probably made up or had changed from the telling over thousands of years.
While they waited for their breakfast to arrive Flossy told everyone the story of her abduction by pirates and her rescue by Harry and Larry. There was great hilarity as she explained how Larry had used wax coated cheese wheels to foul the Interloper’s rudder ropes. Having now heard her story twice Harry noticed she always downplayed her own part and tended to embellish the achievements of others. She didn’t say how she had survived so long living among the pirates or how she had saved herself by boldly diving in after Larry. These deeds were worthy of telling and would have reflected well upon her yet she choose not to mention them. On the other hand, she made it sound as if taking on a ship full of pirates in a tiny skiff was something he and Larry did every day and twice on Sundays. Harry put it down to a basic humility of spirit, a quality he greatly admired.
‘There really isn’t that much more to tell,’ said Flossy following the latest round of laughter. ‘Larry and I got away across the rooftops after Harry was snatched. He rescued me with nothing more than a rope, a pulley, a barrel of olive oil and a whole lot of courage. Ingenious don’t you think? I was pulled up so fast I came close to flying.’
They all laughed.
‘You should have seen everyone slipping about in the oil below! He is a very clever monkey.’ She smiled affectionately at Larry, who looked shyly away. ‘From there, he led me across the rooftops. We narrowly avoided capture a few times. Eventually we lost our pursuers and managed to get to the outskirts of town. I can’t say where, but he took me to a secret place he knew.’
‘He’s got secret places all over town,’ said Reginald, laughing conspiratorially.
Abashed by the attention Larry played absently with his cutlery.
Flossy continued: ‘But I can say that it was warm and dry there. So we hunkered down for the night. Thought it best to sort out the confusion in the morning when everyone had a clear head.’
‘I was sure you died in the fire,’ said Harry. ‘There I was, only yesterday, extolling the virtues of our town and no sooner do you arrive than everyone turns on you with fear and loathing and tries to burn you alive. Shameful really, and surprising.’
‘No harm done,’ said Flossy, waving her hand dismissively. ‘It could have happened to anyone. As it happened, I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep since I was kidnapped. Last night’s straw bed seemed like a perfect luxury. Dogs don’t sleep in beds you know, they sort-of all huddle together on the deck to keep warm. The fleas wouldn’t have it any other way!’
Everyone laughed.
‘We’ll have to make sure you get to enjoy a better standard of accommodation tonight, Flossy. You’re welcome to join me on the Serendipity, and you too Larry,’ said Harry.
‘The Serendipity?’ asked Flossy.
The super-sized mugs of hot chocolate they had ordered arrived, each with two marshmallows riding plumply on an accompanying saucer. Reginald’s barrel of hot chocolate was rolled in last. The marshmallows with it were the size of pillows. It looked far too large even for an elephant to manage.
‘Serendipity means to make fortunate discoveries by accident,’ explained Reginald as two gibbon waiters manoeuvred his barrel into position beneath the open window. ‘The Serendipity’s Harry’s very own sailing ship, nearly complete. He’s been building her for years and years. Harry’s not an ordinary possum you know. He doesn’t play by the rules. Not only does he rescue fair maidens from blood-thirsty pirates, but he chooses to sleep at night instead of during the day and builds ships in his spare time. No one believed our Harry could do it but I’m happy to say he’s proved his doubters wrong.’
Harry put down his mug following a tentative sip, it was still too hot to drink. The fur about his mouth was freckled with chocolate powder so he licked it clean.
‘The Serendipity’s nearly finished but still in drydock,’ he said to Flossy. ‘She’s a twin-masted Baltimore Clipper built for speed and long voyages. I plan on seeing the world in style.’
‘How did you learn to build ships?’ Flossy asked.
‘I was apprenticed as a shipwright at sixteen and saw it through to the end. I’ve read a few books and I helped repair the Happy Trader after a storm nearly wrecked her a few years back. That’s the big lumbering Fluyt we moored the Windrush next to last night. I saw you looking at ship’s masthead.’
‘Was that the one with the mermaid holding the turtle?’ asked Flossy.
‘That’s right,’ said Harry. He sipped at his hot chocolate.
‘After my apprenticeship I sailed whenever I could. In those days I spent more time at sea than on land.’
‘Why?’ asked Flossy. Her grey-blue eyes were full of interest.
‘Believe me, my young friend,’ Reginald said, interrupting with a flourish of his trunk. ‘There is nothing—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing... about in boats—or with boats. In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it.’
‘That’s wonderful, Reginald. Where’s it from?’ Harry asked.
‘It’s from an ancient book called Wind in the Willows. It dates back to the Machine Age when animals first learned to talk. It even has talking toads, if you can believe it.’
‘Fiction, then?’
‘Probably, though one can never be sure with literature of such antiquity. Life is so often stranger than fiction, don’t you find?’ said Reginald.
‘It is, my friend,’ said Harry, smiling.
Harry turned back to Flossy. ‘To answer your question, I’ve always loved the idea of “messing about in boats” as Reginald says, but I can’t say why. My folks didn’t understand why I wanted to leave the safety of Treehaven—that’s my home town—and live by daylight, on the ground instead of in trees, in “dangerous” Port Isabel instead of with my own kind. They thought I was born wrong.’ Harry toyed with his mug. ‘But I don’t think our destiny is written in stone like some folk say. Destiny’s a matter of choice not an accident of birth.’ He pointed at his heart and looked up at Flossy. ‘This is where our destinies are written. They are the children of our desires.’
‘Here, here. Very poetic, Harry,’ said Reginald.
Harry took
a sip from his mug before continuing, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘I want to see the world-beyond. The ice has been retreating for a hundred years, maybe even longer. I want to know what it’s been hiding for a thousand. Sailing’s the only practical way to go. The lands to the north and east are filled with wild animals, still living in the in old ways, predator and prey; cannibals. There are impassable mountains in the West. The sea’s an unchartered highway, danger-free.’ He inserted a marshmallow and chewed with relish.
‘There are pirates on your danger-free highway, Harry,’ pointed out Reginald, smiling. ’Haven’t you noticed?’
‘True. But a few less now, thanks to Larry,’ said Flossy, laughing.
Larry hung his head, a tiny smile just visible in the corner of his mouth. The others laughed.
Harry continued: ‘The Gulf is vast and pirates are scarce. I’m betting we’ll quickly leave them behind if we head due east of Port Isabel. And I think there’s a way through the icebergs, despite what everyone thinks. If the pirates can get through, I can too.’
‘But the Interloper didn’t come from the East, Harry. It came up from the South,’ said Flossy.
Harry’s brow furrowed. ‘It can’t have. The Southern Icewall lies due south of Port Isabel so you can’t have come from the South. I’ve been down there myself a few times and there’s no way through. You must have come in from the East.’
Flossy reached into the inner pocket of her vest and pulled out a yellowing parchment. It was roughly folded and had been waterproofed with wax. It was the colour of stained teeth.
‘I think I know the sun rises in the East and sets in the West, Harry. I’m telling you we came up from the South and passed through a gap in a great wall of ice; the Southern Icewall, as you said.’
She unfolded the parchment and spread it out on the table.
‘Hey, it’s a map!’ said Harry, leaning forward.
TO BE CONTINUED
Coming Soon:
THE SECRET INVASION OF PORT ISABEL
Book 2 of THE FAIRWEATHER CHRONICLES