Read Online Crystal Rain by Tobias S. Buckell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tobias S. Buckell
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stone in market square.” He backed away. “You tell me when that meeting go happen, okay? Or I take all me men and head out deep into the bush, become a mongoose biting the heels of the Azteca, because this city the only place we can break that tide for sure.”
The door slammed shut.
“Haidan?” He was angry. Maybe a bit scared. And that made her even more scared. Dihana swept every single letter off her desk. None of that crap mattered right now.
Azteca were coming.
CHAPTER TEN
Down Brungstun’s Main Street one of the town’s few steam cars pulled a large float coated in strips of multicolored cloth. Men on top drummed steel pans, the music echoing off the sides of the houses and warehouses they passed. Horses pulled more floats behind them, and costumed dancers followed.
Along the sidewalk wooden booths sold patties. Or curried chicken. Or johnnycake. Or sandwiches. Jerome could buy bush tea, maubi, malt … the list went on.
Jub-jub pranced down the street, covered in black paint, demanding money from the crowd. Along the procession’s side Jerome spotted moko jumbies on their tall stilts. One rested against a balcony, taking a break from his frenzied dancing down the street and talking to some women watching the parade.
Too bad Dad wasn’t here yet to enjoy it. Mom said he’d show up for at least some of the celebration later this morning.
Jerome bought a brown bag of tamarind balls and popped one in his mouth. The sweet sugar coating dissolved. He puckered his lips as he sucked on the sour part and wandered along. A woman danced right past him, stiff feathers from her peacock costume sticking out all over from her back, bouncing around as she shook herself down over the cobblestones. She headed for the waterfront toward the judges.
Jerome wasn’t going with the parade toward the waterfront. Jerome had a goal in mind: the tall four-story warehouse
and store called Happer’s. From the top he and his friends could see the whole town.
A piece of patty hit his shirt, staining it brown. Jerome brushed off meat flecks and looked up. “Why you got to be always testing me?”
“Easy target, man. Easy easy.” Swagga’s cheerful face looked over the edge of Happer’s, way up on the roof. He looked proud. Jerome picked up a nice oval pebble lying by the street side and pocketed it for when Swagga wouldn’t expect it.
Happer’s had an iron fire-ladder on the alley side. Jerome grabbed the first rung and pulled himself up carefully, checking to make sure the rungs wouldn’t pull out from the green concrete wall, and climbed up to the rooftop.
“Finally.” Swagga gave him a hand up and over. Jerome looked around. Other friends, Schmitti from school and Daseki from half a mile down the road, sat on a tablecloth. They had ham-and-cheese sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade.
“That you mum’s cloth?” Jerome asked Schmitti.
“That he bumba-clot,” Swagga yelled. They all burst out laughing. None could cuss more wicked than Swagga.
“You want a lemonade?” Daseki asked.
“Yeah.” Jerome walked over. The unpainted concrete rooftop already shimmered with heat. But the view made up for the lack of shade. Daseki poured a glass of lemonade. Jerome sipped it and walked over to the other side of Happer’s so he could see the carnival parade. “You won’t believe what all happen to me last night.”
“What?”
Jerome held the lemonade between both hands and told them about the mongoose-man who’d died in his kitchen, and how he’d run to get Auntie Fixit. By the time he was done the lemonade tasted way too sweet. He looked at the bottom of the glass and saw clumps of sugar.
“Man,” Daseki said. “Everything cool happen to you. You father have a hook, you mom cook well, and someone fall into you garden last night.”
“The post master had tell my dad the telegraph ain’t
working before we had gone sailing, so we can’t warn anyone in Joginstead that some Azteca scout around.
The door slammed shut.
“Haidan?” He was angry. Maybe a bit scared. And that made her even more scared. Dihana swept every single letter off her desk. None of that crap mattered right now.
Azteca were coming.
CHAPTER TEN
Down Brungstun’s Main Street one of the town’s few steam cars pulled a large float coated in strips of multicolored cloth. Men on top drummed steel pans, the music echoing off the sides of the houses and warehouses they passed. Horses pulled more floats behind them, and costumed dancers followed.
Along the sidewalk wooden booths sold patties. Or curried chicken. Or johnnycake. Or sandwiches. Jerome could buy bush tea, maubi, malt … the list went on.
Jub-jub pranced down the street, covered in black paint, demanding money from the crowd. Along the procession’s side Jerome spotted moko jumbies on their tall stilts. One rested against a balcony, taking a break from his frenzied dancing down the street and talking to some women watching the parade.
Too bad Dad wasn’t here yet to enjoy it. Mom said he’d show up for at least some of the celebration later this morning.
Jerome bought a brown bag of tamarind balls and popped one in his mouth. The sweet sugar coating dissolved. He puckered his lips as he sucked on the sour part and wandered along. A woman danced right past him, stiff feathers from her peacock costume sticking out all over from her back, bouncing around as she shook herself down over the cobblestones. She headed for the waterfront toward the judges.
Jerome wasn’t going with the parade toward the waterfront. Jerome had a goal in mind: the tall four-story warehouse
and store called Happer’s. From the top he and his friends could see the whole town.
A piece of patty hit his shirt, staining it brown. Jerome brushed off meat flecks and looked up. “Why you got to be always testing me?”
“Easy target, man. Easy easy.” Swagga’s cheerful face looked over the edge of Happer’s, way up on the roof. He looked proud. Jerome picked up a nice oval pebble lying by the street side and pocketed it for when Swagga wouldn’t expect it.
Happer’s had an iron fire-ladder on the alley side. Jerome grabbed the first rung and pulled himself up carefully, checking to make sure the rungs wouldn’t pull out from the green concrete wall, and climbed up to the rooftop.
“Finally.” Swagga gave him a hand up and over. Jerome looked around. Other friends, Schmitti from school and Daseki from half a mile down the road, sat on a tablecloth. They had ham-and-cheese sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade.
“That you mum’s cloth?” Jerome asked Schmitti.
“That he bumba-clot,” Swagga yelled. They all burst out laughing. None could cuss more wicked than Swagga.
“You want a lemonade?” Daseki asked.
“Yeah.” Jerome walked over. The unpainted concrete rooftop already shimmered with heat. But the view made up for the lack of shade. Daseki poured a glass of lemonade. Jerome sipped it and walked over to the other side of Happer’s so he could see the carnival parade. “You won’t believe what all happen to me last night.”
“What?”
Jerome held the lemonade between both hands and told them about the mongoose-man who’d died in his kitchen, and how he’d run to get Auntie Fixit. By the time he was done the lemonade tasted way too sweet. He looked at the bottom of the glass and saw clumps of sugar.
“Man,” Daseki said. “Everything cool happen to you. You father have a hook, you mom cook well, and someone fall into you garden last night.”
“The post master had tell my dad the telegraph ain’t
working before we had gone sailing, so we can’t warn anyone in Joginstead that some Azteca scout around.
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