What the Birds See by Sonya Hartnett

Author:Sonya Hartnett [Hartnett, Sonya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781406375190
Publisher: Walker Books
Published: 2018-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

SIX

Horsegirl is on the roof. Someone’s noticed her and given a shout and now the entire school is gathered at the base of the red brick wall, their chins tipped up as far as they’ll go. Horsegirl is storming back and forth, snorting down at them. She is a high-strung thoroughbred, rolling eyes, tossing head, scraping and stamping her hoof. Rust rains earthward in gritty showers, along with twigs and primeval muck from the gutter; the roof, corrugated iron set at a lazy slope, creaks and drums with the rampage. On the roof alongside Horsegirl is her wrath, which pounds the iron like a physical thing: Horsegirl and her fury are like two black fighting crows.

“Get lost!” she screams, and whisks her deadly reins. Because the building is high, two storeys plus an attic where chairs and files and pageant props are stored, the reins lash nowhere near any child. And because they are so safe where they stand, the children have turned brave. They would never dare heckle her, were she on the ground; but she isn’t on the ground, and her pride won’t let her down to defend herself, so she is at their mercy, of which children have little or none. They buzz below like an excited swarm, like wolves that have spotted the weakling. Horsegirl stares savagely at them, baring her fangs. “I’ll jump!” she threatens. “I’m gonna jump!”

“What did she say?”

“She says she’ll jump!”

The children move as one, a mass of wasps turning on the wind. Those nearest to the wall step back to give her splattering space. Horsegirl rears away from the edge, her hands moving madly in the air. She throws her head from side to side. Far below they can hear her, garbling curses and spells; they hear the moan of the iron as her weight falls on its weak spots. Her burning face juts over the gutter. “I wanna see Mr Palmer!”

Mr Palmer is the only teacher for whom Horsegirl has any respect. Three righteous girls have already hotfooted to the staffroom with news of the mad girl’s latest escapade, and the teachers will arrive at any moment. The children know there’s not much time – their excitement tightens like a bolt. The air is suddenly peppery with stones. Someone kicks a football and it bounds thickly off the wall. Rubbish is hurled, paper bags and wadded gum and the wrappings of flavoured iceblocks. She claws at them, shredding air, beyond the range of even the strongest boy, the most canny aim. The teachers are rushing across the playground when one voice finally yells it, determined not to be deprived. It’s a hoarse sound, a myna’s cry: “Jump!” And there’s no persuasion needed for a chorus to rise instantly behind it, fire rushing through grass. “Jump! Jump! Jump!”

Horsegirl gazes down at them, her mouth gaping wide. The cresting crowd of innocents laughs, claps, alive. It hoots and whistles with glee. A boy snatches Adrian’s bag of Chikadees and crushes filthy fists into the phosphorescent yellow balls.

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