The Metal Men by Jackie French

Author:Jackie French
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ligature Pty Limited
Published: 2021-11-09T09:49:03+00:00

Chapter 7

Reggie

The waves slapped gently against the boat. The Tenant rowed slowly but expertly, his injured leg stuck out awkwardly in front of him. Mopoke leant against the back, too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Possum peered into the thickening dark.

The island grew slowly. It was smaller than she’d expected, as wide perhaps as two or three households side by side, and slightly longer. The edges were tumbled rocks and there were trees, dim against the starlit sky. There were buildings too, but it was hard to make them out. A light shone in one window.

The Tenant pulled the boat up beside a smooth band of rock, so smooth it looked man-made, thought Possum wearily, but how could humans make stone like that? The Tenant tied the boat firmly to a giant iron ring. He gestured to Possum. ‘If you could climb up first, you could lend me your hand. I can’t manage wif my leg.’

Possum nodded and clambered onto the wall. It seemed to be made of rock on the top too, uneven knobbly rocks all pressed together. She reached down and grasped the Tenant’s hand while he pushed with his crutch on the other side. He nodded his thanks as she reached down to help Desert Wind.

Mopoke passed the packs up to her, then hoisted himself up after them. He looked around exhaustedly.

‘Where’s what’s his name … Reggie?’ he asked.

‘Reggie is inside,’ said the Tenant. ‘We go this way.’

He limped in front of them. The others followed slowly, Possum and Mopoke carrying the packs, Desert Wind leaning on her crutch.

The path was made of the same material as the top of the rock wall. They could still hear the lap of the water on the shore. From somewhere far off across the water came the sound of metal striking metal. The leaves rustled above them, the sole familiar sound.

The path stopped at a metal door—as much metal as the Valley used in years, thought Mopoke tiredly. Thick walls rose on either side, made of the same strange rock, pressed together, that they had seen before. The Tenant reached for the latch and opened the door.

It was bright inside, much brighter than the nightlamps at home. Possum blinked and looked around.

The room was large, and mostly empty. The floor was made of stone. Narrow windows looked out into the night. The sea breeze came through briskly. Recesses held bright lanterns on either side of a door on the far wall.

She could hear something coming down the passage … something like footsteps … but normal footsteps didn’t sound like that. Clip—shuffle, clop—shuffle …

Suddenly a face peered out. It was round and shiny, and bald as the moon. ‘Hello,’ it said, ‘I thought I heard someone.’

‘Hello Reggie,’ said the Tenant.

Reggie limped further into the room. Possum gasped, then tried to school her face. She mustn’t stare …

Reggie’s eyes met hers. They were big eyes, brown and gentle and sort of far away. He was as tall as the Tenant. Like him, his head was shaved, though his was shaved all over, without the tuft of hair on top.

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