everyone else out of the house the next morning wasn’t such a problem. Jaz was keen to go and see the boat wreck at low tide, and Uncle Mungo agreed to take her down there. When he asked Sam and George if they would like to come along for the drive, they shook their heads.
‘Nah, I have to clean out the guinea pig cage, and Sam said he’d help me,’ said George.
As soon as Old Jock had disappeared back to his quarters and the others had driven off, Sam and Georgeraced over to the shed and quickly climbed up the ladder. As they stepped out onto the floor of the loft, a little head poked out from behind a box, green eyes staring hugely at them. Sam beckoned to the child to follow them, and they all climbed back down.
The child appeared to be quite pleased to be inside a house again, and was fascinated by it. The kitchen, living room, hallway, all were subjected to a thorough examination. He looked immensely relieved to see the toilet, and wasted no time shutting the door in their faces. When he came out again, Sam showed him the bathroom.
‘George, get some of your clothes – he’s closer to your size than mine.’ Meanwhile, Sam turned the taps on and began to fill the bathtub with warm water. When George came back with clean shorts, T-shirt and jocks, Sam mimed to the child to take off his clothes. The child seemed not to understand him, so Sam tried to take hold of the dirty, ragged T-shirt, and lift it over his head. At this the child spun out of reach, and a torrent of indignant words came pouring out at Sam, while his green eyes flashed angrily and his hands gesticulated at Sam with very clear meaning.
‘I don’t think he wants you to do that,’ said George warily.
‘Yeah, what’s the big deal?’ He turned off the taps,and shrugged. ‘Well, I guess we can just leave him to it. I hope he doesn’t take too long.’ Sam tried to mime ‘hurry up’ but he didn’t think he was very successful. He hung a fresh towel over the rail and pointed to it and to the child, who just stared furiously at him until he shut the door.
They hovered outside the bathroom door until they heard the sound of splashing water.
‘Sounds like he knows what to do with a bath, anyway,’ said George.
‘Yeah,’ said Sam. ‘You stay here and keep an eye on him, and I’ll go and watch out in case Old Jock comes over.’
The child seemed to take forever, and Sam was getting very nervous. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door a couple of times, but a torrent of words was all the response he got. Sam waited, his heart pounding in his chest. What if Jaz and Uncle Mungo were to come back now? In his mind’s eye he could see the ute driving up the track, Uncle Mungo banging his way into the house because he’d forgotten something, and deciding to nip into the bathroom before he went out again. Sam began to sweat a little as the splashing continued on and on.
He knocked on the door again. ‘Hurry up!’ he whispered urgently.
Finally the door opened and the child stepped out, a happier look on his gleaming face. The matted, spiky hair was clean and not so spiky now, and George’s clothes were a pretty good fit. He had the wet towel and his dirty clothes in a bundle, which he handed to Sam.
George looked into the bathroom, and whistled. ‘Wow, he leaves the bathroom a lot cleaner than we do!’
There was still no sign of Jock, so Sam thought they’d chance giving the child some food in the kitchen. He sat him down at the table and filled a bowl with cereal and milk, and sprinkled some sugar on top. The child looked at the bowl and then at Sam and George.
‘Doesn’t he know what cornflakes are?’ said George.
‘I guess not. They probably don’t have them where he comes from.’ Sam picked up a spoon, and mimed eating from the bowl.
The child looked warily at the bowl again, but he picked up his spoon and tasted the cereal. He appeared completely mystified as he began to chew, and then smiled at the boys,
‘Nah, I have to clean out the guinea pig cage, and Sam said he’d help me,’ said George.
As soon as Old Jock had disappeared back to his quarters and the others had driven off, Sam and Georgeraced over to the shed and quickly climbed up the ladder. As they stepped out onto the floor of the loft, a little head poked out from behind a box, green eyes staring hugely at them. Sam beckoned to the child to follow them, and they all climbed back down.
The child appeared to be quite pleased to be inside a house again, and was fascinated by it. The kitchen, living room, hallway, all were subjected to a thorough examination. He looked immensely relieved to see the toilet, and wasted no time shutting the door in their faces. When he came out again, Sam showed him the bathroom.
‘George, get some of your clothes – he’s closer to your size than mine.’ Meanwhile, Sam turned the taps on and began to fill the bathtub with warm water. When George came back with clean shorts, T-shirt and jocks, Sam mimed to the child to take off his clothes. The child seemed not to understand him, so Sam tried to take hold of the dirty, ragged T-shirt, and lift it over his head. At this the child spun out of reach, and a torrent of indignant words came pouring out at Sam, while his green eyes flashed angrily and his hands gesticulated at Sam with very clear meaning.
‘I don’t think he wants you to do that,’ said George warily.
‘Yeah, what’s the big deal?’ He turned off the taps,and shrugged. ‘Well, I guess we can just leave him to it. I hope he doesn’t take too long.’ Sam tried to mime ‘hurry up’ but he didn’t think he was very successful. He hung a fresh towel over the rail and pointed to it and to the child, who just stared furiously at him until he shut the door.
They hovered outside the bathroom door until they heard the sound of splashing water.
‘Sounds like he knows what to do with a bath, anyway,’ said George.
‘Yeah,’ said Sam. ‘You stay here and keep an eye on him, and I’ll go and watch out in case Old Jock comes over.’
The child seemed to take forever, and Sam was getting very nervous. He went to the bathroom and knocked on the door a couple of times, but a torrent of words was all the response he got. Sam waited, his heart pounding in his chest. What if Jaz and Uncle Mungo were to come back now? In his mind’s eye he could see the ute driving up the track, Uncle Mungo banging his way into the house because he’d forgotten something, and deciding to nip into the bathroom before he went out again. Sam began to sweat a little as the splashing continued on and on.
He knocked on the door again. ‘Hurry up!’ he whispered urgently.
Finally the door opened and the child stepped out, a happier look on his gleaming face. The matted, spiky hair was clean and not so spiky now, and George’s clothes were a pretty good fit. He had the wet towel and his dirty clothes in a bundle, which he handed to Sam.
George looked into the bathroom, and whistled. ‘Wow, he leaves the bathroom a lot cleaner than we do!’
There was still no sign of Jock, so Sam thought they’d chance giving the child some food in the kitchen. He sat him down at the table and filled a bowl with cereal and milk, and sprinkled some sugar on top. The child looked at the bowl and then at Sam and George.
‘Doesn’t he know what cornflakes are?’ said George.
‘I guess not. They probably don’t have them where he comes from.’ Sam picked up a spoon, and mimed eating from the bowl.
The child looked warily at the bowl again, but he picked up his spoon and tasted the cereal. He appeared completely mystified as he began to chew, and then smiled at the boys,
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