The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel (3 page)

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Authors: Mark Douglas Stafford

Tags: #science fiction, #pirates

BOOK: The Secret Invasion of Port Isabel
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From his
corner, Larry watched silently.

Harry finally
got the better of Reginald and knocked aside Reginald’s fork. ‘Do
you yield?’ he said.

‘Spare my
life, oh great one. You are truly an awesome and fearless
spoon-master. Your uneaten pancakes wove upon me a most powerful
and dreadful enchantment. Please forgive my reckless and unprovoked
attack,’ said Reginald.

Harry relaxed
into his seat, smiling serenely. ‘Well, I suppose on this
occasion…’

Like
lightening, Reginald’s trunk flashed across the table and vacuumed
up a mess of blueberries drowning in syrup from the side of Harry’s
plate.

‘Hey, that’s
cheating!’ protested Harry, stabbing too late.

‘There’s no
cheating in war, just strategy and subterfuge,’ said Reginald,
smiling contentedly. He made a show of licking his lips.

Everyone
laughed except Larry.

The rain
outside had faded to a misty drizzle. Others were arriving at the
café for breakfast and glancing curiously in their direction. At
some point, Flossy had tied back her hair with a blue ribbon so
that her strange hairless ears were now clearly visible; like a
chimp’s but pale pink and pinned unnaturally against her head
rather than sticking out as they should. When seen from the side, a
human head was the shape of a teardrop.

Noticing
Harry’s interest in her ribbon, Flossy reached up and adjusted it.
‘This was my mother’s,’ she said with a pensive smile. ‘It’s one of
my most precious things. Beautiful, isn’t it. Mum said it was the
colour of a cloudless day.’

‘I’m sure
you’ll find each other again, and your father too,’ said Reginald,
reaching out with his trunk and brushing the back of Flossy’s hand.
‘People of good character and courage never fail if they stick at
it for the long haul.’

Flossy
squeezed the tip Reginald’s trunk, which curled over her hand like
fingers. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

All four were
quiet for a time, lost in thought. Outside, misty rain fell on the
stone town.

Without
asking, the ostrich waitress toped up their mugs of hot chocolate
from a large clay jug decorated with pictures of owls. Larry put a
hand over his as it was still full.

When she had
gone, Harry said:

‘Speaking of
good character and courage, Reginald, what you did was brimful of
both.’

‘Are you
referring to my daring lunges during our rather too brief
spoon-fight just now? For it was you who won, I believe, not me,’
said Reginald.

Harry looked
up at his big friend and remembered him backlit by the museum fire
as he fought off the soldiers, intent on capturing Flossy and
Larry, who they took to be pirates. The whole town had gathered in
the Square and were chanting ‘burn them out, burn them out.’ They
had become a mindless mob. Then someone threw a firebrand at the
museum and set it alight.

‘No, I meant
last night. I saw you stand against the whole town to protect
pirates from being lynched. Then, when the fire started, I saw you
smash into the museum to save them.’

‘Oh, I’m just
an academic, Harry. You must have me confused with someone else.
Besides, there were no pirates. We know that now.’

‘Of course it
was you. There aren’t many elephants living in Port Isabel, and
none other who would dare stand up to the Mayor. Admit it, you’re a
hero.’

‘Surely anyone
who risks his life to save non-existent pirates is more fool than
hero,’ said Reginald.

Harry sat back
in his seat so he was level with Flossy and Larry who sat either
side. ‘You’re no fool and you know it, Reginald. No matter that the
building was empty of pirates, a fool doesn’t wilfully put the
lives of others ahead of his own. We only ever act on what we
believe to be true, so it’s action that counts at the end of the
day, not the belief itself. You acted to prevent a lynching then
risked your life trying to save others. I say you’re a hero.’

The ostrich
waitresses head was cocked in their direction as she slowly, too
slowly, polished a table. Others at nearby tables were unusually
silent.

Reginald toyed
with his mostly-empty barrel of hot chocolate. A gust of damp air
washed around him through the open window. He said:

‘Isn’t this
all a bit serious, Harry?

‘You’re always
so quick to hand out praise to others. Why won’t you receive it?’
Harry asked.

‘Because I
don’t deserve…’ said Reginald suddenly, his voice trailing off. He
shook his head.

‘Don’t
deserve…?’

In all the
years he’d known Reginald, Harry had heard little about the great
elephant’s life before Port Isabel, when he’d lived in Twin Rivers
in the North. He thought there might be some past regret; something
Reginald couldn’t even tell a good friend; something he was ashamed
of or embarrassed by. He had come to live in Port Isabel with his
wife, Marjorie, well before Harry was born. They had no calves of
their own, then Marjorie had died.

‘I was just
trying to protect the museum exhibits,’ said Reginald, failing to
make eye contact. ‘They were irreplaceable and I have spent most of
my life collecting, cataloguing and curating them. It was all about
the exhibits, you see. That’s why I went into the museum. Why
should I care about a few pirates who blew up my school and nearly
blew me up with it? I assure you, I’m no hero, Harry.’

‘Oh, I see. I
should have realised you’d put those things ahead of a few mangy
dogs. Rocks and rusting machines and a few mouldy parchments have
much greater worth? Yes, I see it now. You wanted to save the
exhibits. It didn’t matter that a few dogs burned alive. After all,
you didn’t start the fire so no one would blame you. But the
exhibits: they had to be saved at all costs. Strange then, that
when I saw you stumble down the stairs backlit by the inferno and
streaming smoke you had failed to save a
single
precious
artefact. Too hot to handle, were they?’

Reginald was
silent at Harry’s well-intentioned sarcasm.

Harry
continued: ‘You are a hero, Reginald, and an inspiration to this
town. I don’t know why you can’t receive it but you should at least
know that we think it. I know you value lives more highly than
artefacts. And I know you believe everyone deserves their day in
court, even dogs.’

Reginald
looked down while Harry spoke. He made no further attempt to refute
Harry’s praise.

‘You had every
reason to let them burn. They destroyed your school and museum and
they nearly took your life and the childrens’. You had every
reason. But you didn’t. You risked you’re life to save them.’

‘Well spoken,
Harry,’ said Flossy.

A moment
passed before Reginald lifted his huge head and looked evenly at
Harry. ‘Port Isabel will need to find a new inspiration.’

Harry
waited.

‘I’m leaving,’
said Reginald.

‘Leaving! What
do you mean, leaving?’ Harry asked, perplexed. Reginald had been
living in Port Isabel for so long and was such an important part of
the community it was inconceivable he should go. He would leave a
void that no one else would be able to fill.

‘I’m going
back to where it all began,’ Reginald said.

‘But you
can’t…’

‘I’ll stay if
you can answer this question: Why should I stay? What reason would
you give?’

‘Well, I
think…,’ began Harry. ‘Um, well there’s… um…’

‘I have no
school at which to teach and no museum for which to curate.
Marjorie, the love of my life, died years ago and we had no calves
of our own. My greatest friend and the best of all animals—and I
mean you Harry—is leaving without me on some foolhardy and
dangerous adventure years in the making. Further to this, I must
admit, last’s night debacle has somewhat dampened my opinion of our
little town. I still can’t believe my neighbours capable of such
blind stupidity and callousness.’

‘But there is
a reason that outstrips all of these. In all the years I’ve studied
the past, trying to make sense of its biggest mysteries, I have sat
at my desk and hoped that some newly uncovered artefact would
finally provide the crucial link. I wait and I wait—you know how
good elephants are at waiting—but even I am tired of waiting,
Harry.’

Reginald
sighed. ‘And I must admit too, that I’m beginning to feel my age
and sense the real possibility I might depart this world without
truly understanding it. So, I have decided to go looking. The loss
of the museum, which is truly unfortunate, and to a lesser extent,
the loss of the school, is a kind freedom for me; as if the ties
have finally been cut. There is nothing keeping me here any longer.
Everything is out there lying amongst the rocks in puddles of
melting ice.’ He waved his trunk grandly. ‘It’s out there waiting
to be discovered.’

‘Perhaps,
Harry, you and I are more alike than you know. I long for adventure
too, of a different kind, but adventure none-the-less. It’s just
taken me a lot longer to find my moment; a lifetime of reflection
and study, to find my moment. I want to know what the Heat Trees
are for and how they grow. I want to know where all the owls went
and why. I want to see if there is anything beyond the Northern
Escarpment and the mountain range that walls off the West. Where do
all the strange machines we’ve excavated come from, and what do
they do? Why did the craniums of all species double in size and
change shape at the same time in the fossil record? Of one thing I
am sure, I won’t learn anything more with study. Exploration is the
only way forward.’

Harry waited
until he was sure Reginald had finished. ‘Hear, hear, my great
blueberry-stealing friend!’ he said. ‘You are full of surprises and
the best of all elephants.’ He raised his nearly-empty mug of hot
chocolate and stood on the bench seat. ‘I would propose a toast,’
he announced formally. ‘Please charge your mugs.’

Flossy and
Larry hurriedly picked up their mugs. Harry knew Flossy’s mug was
empty and admired her for choosing not to break the rhythm of the
moment by asking for a refill.

‘To Reginald,’
said Harry. ‘May his odyssey unlock the world’s enigmatic past and
his great mind plumb its mysteries and untangle its labyrinthine
riddles.’ He raised his mug. ‘To Reginald!’ he charged.

Harry, Larry
and Flossy
chinked
together their mugs and drank. Larry
sipped. Flossy pretended to drink. The ostrich waitress, caught up
in the moment, looked round for a mug or glass before realising she
wasn’t supposed to be listening.

‘Thank you,
dearest of friends,’ said Reginald with an elephant-bow, eye’s
sparkling. ‘A fine toast and worthy of a worthier recipient than
I.’

‘When will you
leave? Where will you go?’ asked Flossy. She had leaned forward,
elbows on the table, one hand cupping cheek and chin.

‘Today seems
as good as any.’

‘Today!’ Harry
spluttered.

‘Yes, once
I’ve helped you with the small matter of lifting a mast, or some
such.’

The
Serendipity
, the Baltimore Clipper Harry had been building
for years by scrounging materials and calling in favours, was still
in dry dock at Thompsons Creek. Once the mast was emplaced he could
begin the final fit out, then sail the sleek ship down the Rio
Grande and out into the Gulf. From there it would be a simple
matter to sail south to Sometimes Gap, and through it into the
great unknown; all made possible by Flossy’s remarkable map.
Reginald had offered to help lift the heavy mast just before the
pirate’s cannon ball exploded, destroying the school and throwing
Harry flat to the grass.

‘Where will
you go?’ Flossy asked.

‘I’ll head up
into the Northern Wilds and on to Twin Rivers at the very top of
the Rio Grande, where it emerges from the Northern Escarpment. From
there I hope to make my way over the mountains. You can see those
places marked on your map, Flossy.’

Flossy traced
Reginald’s route.

‘And a final
tidy up at home is needed,’ said Reginald. ‘I’ll be travelling
light so packing will be quick and there are no loose ends at the
school and museum to worry about, the pirates took care of those.
So I shall begin my odyssey today or tomorrow. Apart from my great
sadness of leaving friends, I have no excuses for further
delay.’

Larry had
slumped in the corner of the booth and was staring fixedly at the
table. A great sadness seemed to be pressing him down.

Flossy reached
past Harry and squeezed Larry’s hand. ‘Are you okay?’ she
asked.

Larry didn’t
look up. The rain seemed to grow heavier outside and a cold wind
gusted through the open window like an ill omen.

‘Could it be
that you are, yet again, left behind?’ Reginald asked, gently. ‘I’m
going in one direction and Harry and Flossy are going in another.
Is that it, Larry?’

Larry shrank,
face drooping, shadows deepening. Then he sprang up, stepped nimbly
over the table and climbed passed Reginald through the open window.
He didn’t look back and no one moved to stop him.

When he had
gone Reginald said:

‘I think you
should know a bit about Larry’s past, as much as I know. You too,
Flossy. Most of the town has the sense of it, if not the actual
truth. Since I met him a few months back I’ve been piecing it
together. I’m sure Larry wouldn’t mind. It would help you
understand, I think. It all began twelve years ago when…’

There was a
commotion at the café’s entrance causing everyone to turn. Silence
dropped like a net. Someone was coming.

 

CHAPTER 3

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