Floods 7 by Colin Thompson

Author:Colin Thompson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Australia
Published: 2008-09-08T04:00:00+00:00

‘Hello, there. Great snow, isn’t it?’ said a penguin.

The Hearse Whisperer had been watching the penguin for three days. That was how long it had taken the poor bird to jump out of the sea, scramble over the rocks, waddle across the famous Tristan da Cunha Potato Patches and clamber up the slippery rocks to the top of the volcano. It had fallen down seventy-three times, but because it only had room inside its head for one thought at a time, and that thought was, I am going up the mountain, it kept trying over and over again until it finally made it.

‘Don’t be stupid,’ said the Hearse Whisperer. ‘Snow is disgusting stuff – all that pure cold whiteness.’

‘But it’s a great view, isn’t it?’ said the horribly cheerful little bird, whose head was now full of the thought that said, Great view, isn’t it?

‘It’s rubbish,’ said the Hearse Whisperer. ‘Some rocks, a bit of grass and lots of sea. What’s so great about that?’

‘Well, why are you here then?’ said the penguin.

‘I’m waiting for someone.’

‘Buried up to your neck in snow on the top of a volcano in the most remote place on earth and you’re waiting for someone?’ said the penguin. ‘Do you not think that maybe – and this is just an idea – do you not think that this is probably the very last place you would ever meet them?’

The Hearse Whisperer turned to face the penguin and was just about to fry the poor innocent bird when a really, really large penny dropped. She could feel the veins inside her head begin to throb, and when they did that she got really, really angry, as anything alive within a fairly large radius would discover very suddenly when the Hearse Whisperer converted them into a small pile of charcoal dust.

‘Penguin,’ she said between gritted teeth, ‘I am deeply indebted to you so I have to tell you that you must leave here very, very quickly.’

‘No probs,’ said the penguin. ‘I only came up here so I could slide all the way down the ice on my tummy and shoot off the cliff into the sea.’

‘What?’

‘Oh yes,’ said the penguin. ‘It’s an old family tradition. All us Tristan da Cunha penguins do it.’

‘Well, do it now and do it very quickly,’ said the Hearse Whisperer. ‘Here, I’ll help you.’

She kicked the little penguin and it slid down the ice faster than a sliding penguin.

‘Thank y o o o o o o u u u u …’ it shouted as it shot off the cliff top, across over the grass and rocks, past a small fishing boat, right over the heads of seven very impressed seals, and landed in the sea over eighty metres from the shore. Even the Hearse Whisperer had to admit, though only to herself, that the penguin’s slide had looked pretty impressive.

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