LJI Season 11, Topic 11.... A Wild Goose Chase...........Janie and Alex, Episode 4
I gratefully push open our heavy oak front door and step with relief into the cool, dark living room of our house. The familiar smells alone are reassuring. It has been another school day with all its attendant trials. I have homework in algebra and a report in Bio. What a nice mental escape coming home is! Both my parents won’t be home for hours-Dad out doing his detectivey stuff and Mom still at her job teaching science across town. Of course, Alex is still missing, so my alone-time isn’t pure bliss. Still, I treasure these quiet moments.
I probably should start on that homework right away, even though I had hoped to take time to think about that feather we brought home from our case at “The Magick Sorceror” yesterday. But I will control myself. I should probably tackle that homework first.
OK, Bio report. “Choose a topic you find captivating from the avian world.” Like I would find anything from Bio class “captivating.” (Shhh, don’t tell Mom!!) What the heck does avian even mean? I reach for my phone and ask Siri, “What is avian?” Stupid Siri tries to tell me about Evian water.
Try again: Now it gives me matches for ”Alien.” D’oh!
Third time’s a charm? AH! Siri says, “Relating to birds.” I shoulda known that.
Suddenly I remember that I AM captivated about birds, at least that one bird feather in particular. OK, now I’m stoked. And now I can rationalize my activities with the feather!
I go get that evidence bag that Dad left on his desk. The feather is trapped inside. Kind of like how my brother Alex is trapped somewhere in the world but we can’t locate him. This feather is our only link to him.
I examine the blue-black feather through the not-quite-transparent plastic bag. I could ask Siri about feathers, but look how well she handled the ‘avian’ question.
Instead I admire the beautiful color and the long, slightly curved sweep of it. My mind slips back to thinking about Alex. Where in the world is he?
Suddenly I am no longer in the cool recesses of my house. Where am I now? The first thing I notice is how hot and dusty it is. And that I am standing in front of a row of large bird pens. Gosh, there must be eight to twelve of them. There is a horse in the field nearby and a small pack of assorted dogs roaming around.
As I am scanning my surroundings, an older woman with a pixie haircut appears. She seems quite startled to see me. Simultaneously, we fire questions at each other.
“How’d you get in here?” she asks.
“Why’s the sky so brown?” I ask her. “It looks like there’s a brush fire nearby.”
“You got that right!” she replies. “Surely you’ve been following the bush fire news.”
Not wanting to have to explain myself, I agree with her. And, on a hunch, I mention “Hey, I’m trying to find my brother Alex.” (As this feather seems to connect us to Alex, why not give it a try?)
“Oh yes, Alex. He’s out fighting the fires. You know, he’s one of the Volunteer Firefighters with the CFA. He’s not here this arvo and I’m not sure when he’ll return. Maybe in a day or two. You know, he was out fighting that fire near Heywood, you know, way out past Warnambool? They got it out and came home and then another one right next to it blazed up and they had to go back. I’m not sure where he is today."
Firefighting? I think. That's a new one.
"I’m so proud of him," Lynn continued. "There are so many of our animals dying in the fires. Of course, it’s a pity about the people, too, but I feel so bad for the innocent creatures, the echidnas and the koalas and all the rest. They had nothing to do with this."
“Say, I’m Lynn. I’m actually out here looking for Stacey. And you are…?”
I stick out my arm to shake hands. “Oh, I’m Jane. I’m Alex’s sister. That is if we’re talking about the same Alex. He’s been missing from home for a while. He seems to be traveling the world. I pull out a photo I have of him that I keep in my back pocket. I show it to her. In it, Alex is smiling at the camera with a small African boy beside him.
“Crikey, that is indeed our dear Alex. I’d recognize him anywhere. Especially in that khaki shirt and holding his bee smoker. He manages the bees here.”
Finally, I can’t hold my question any longer, “Where exactly are we, anyway?”
“Oh, why in Moddewarre.”
I guess I must have looked puzzled.
“You must know how you got here. We’re just down the Prince’s Highway from Geelong.”
“Oh, OK.” I reflect on this woman’s distinctive speech and her mention of koalas. And, of course, the fires. I’m thinking this is Australia but I’m hesitant to reveal more of my ignorance.
“Aha, there’s my Stacey!” Lynn suddenly plunges towards some thick grass and emerges clutching a plump white goose. “Isn’t he a dear?” she clucks. She puts him down on the ground. “Ever since the fires started, he’s been distraught. Hardly remembers his manners. Where’s your brother Michael?” she queries the bird with a sweet voice. Did he follow you out the gate?”
Not waiting for an answer, she continues, “Go to bed, Stacey,” she commands him.
To my disbelief, Stacey begins a quick waddle back towards one of the pens. He slips inside and wags his tail. “Honk, honk,” he comments quietly.
A matching “Honk, honk” answers from behind a board.
“Ah, Michael!” Lynn cries. “I guess he found his way home on his own. Lynn turns to me, "Say, where are you staying?”
“Oh, I just got into town so I don’t have a place to stay yet. And I got dropped off, so I don’t have a car.”
“C’mon, I’m about to leave. I’ll drop you off at Alex’s place." Lynn gestures toward a beat up old camry.
As we walk to her car, I spot numerous feathers littering the yard. “Oh, can I have some of these?” I ask her. “I’m doing a school report on feathers.” When she nods, I start picking up every cool feather I see.
“Oh, of course. I’ll just be burning them all otherwise.”
Half an hour later we pull up to a quaint yellow Victorian house that almost hides behind a trellis covered with overgrown roses. I admire the gingerbread trim and the wide front porch. Though it is only one floor, it seems tall because of the soaring peaked metallic roof. I walk down the tree-lined side of the house, step up onto a slightly creaky back porch, and slip in the unlocked back door. I walk down the unlevel floor and take a seat at the big, rustic dining table in Alex’s kitchen. It’s so cool! The floor’s even got black and white checkerboard tiles! I spread the feathers out: guinea fowl feathers, peacock feathers, and exotic chicken plumage. I gaze at them hoping for inspiration.
And a thought brushes through my mind. Every time someone deals with Alex’s blue-black rooster feather, he or she is transported instantaneously to an unknown faraway place. Birds all wear feathers. They’re famous for making long arduous trips, sometimes of thousands of miles, without maps. How do they do that? Is there any connection with the feathers? Have I discovered the answer to bird navigation?
Do you think my Bio teacher will accept my theory?
Naw, probably not.
How would I explain my sources?
Meanwhile I sit and wait for Alex. What a chase this search has been! Will I ever actually meet him again? And I wonder if I can get the feather to take me back home, along with all my new ones.
Will I arrive back home at precisely the same time as I left, like in my previous experiences? Will I have time to write my report?
I’m getting peckish. I get up and start examining the contents of the cupboards. I know Alex will have chocolate and tea here somewhere!
I probably should start on that homework right away, even though I had hoped to take time to think about that feather we brought home from our case at “The Magick Sorceror” yesterday. But I will control myself. I should probably tackle that homework first.
OK, Bio report. “Choose a topic you find captivating from the avian world.” Like I would find anything from Bio class “captivating.” (Shhh, don’t tell Mom!!) What the heck does avian even mean? I reach for my phone and ask Siri, “What is avian?” Stupid Siri tries to tell me about Evian water.
Try again: Now it gives me matches for ”Alien.” D’oh!
Third time’s a charm? AH! Siri says, “Relating to birds.” I shoulda known that.
Suddenly I remember that I AM captivated about birds, at least that one bird feather in particular. OK, now I’m stoked. And now I can rationalize my activities with the feather!
I go get that evidence bag that Dad left on his desk. The feather is trapped inside. Kind of like how my brother Alex is trapped somewhere in the world but we can’t locate him. This feather is our only link to him.
I examine the blue-black feather through the not-quite-transparent plastic bag. I could ask Siri about feathers, but look how well she handled the ‘avian’ question.
Instead I admire the beautiful color and the long, slightly curved sweep of it. My mind slips back to thinking about Alex. Where in the world is he?
Suddenly I am no longer in the cool recesses of my house. Where am I now? The first thing I notice is how hot and dusty it is. And that I am standing in front of a row of large bird pens. Gosh, there must be eight to twelve of them. There is a horse in the field nearby and a small pack of assorted dogs roaming around.
As I am scanning my surroundings, an older woman with a pixie haircut appears. She seems quite startled to see me. Simultaneously, we fire questions at each other.
“How’d you get in here?” she asks.
“Why’s the sky so brown?” I ask her. “It looks like there’s a brush fire nearby.”
“You got that right!” she replies. “Surely you’ve been following the bush fire news.”
Not wanting to have to explain myself, I agree with her. And, on a hunch, I mention “Hey, I’m trying to find my brother Alex.” (As this feather seems to connect us to Alex, why not give it a try?)
“Oh yes, Alex. He’s out fighting the fires. You know, he’s one of the Volunteer Firefighters with the CFA. He’s not here this arvo and I’m not sure when he’ll return. Maybe in a day or two. You know, he was out fighting that fire near Heywood, you know, way out past Warnambool? They got it out and came home and then another one right next to it blazed up and they had to go back. I’m not sure where he is today."
Firefighting? I think. That's a new one.
"I’m so proud of him," Lynn continued. "There are so many of our animals dying in the fires. Of course, it’s a pity about the people, too, but I feel so bad for the innocent creatures, the echidnas and the koalas and all the rest. They had nothing to do with this."
“Say, I’m Lynn. I’m actually out here looking for Stacey. And you are…?”
I stick out my arm to shake hands. “Oh, I’m Jane. I’m Alex’s sister. That is if we’re talking about the same Alex. He’s been missing from home for a while. He seems to be traveling the world. I pull out a photo I have of him that I keep in my back pocket. I show it to her. In it, Alex is smiling at the camera with a small African boy beside him.
“Crikey, that is indeed our dear Alex. I’d recognize him anywhere. Especially in that khaki shirt and holding his bee smoker. He manages the bees here.”
Finally, I can’t hold my question any longer, “Where exactly are we, anyway?”
“Oh, why in Moddewarre.”
I guess I must have looked puzzled.
“You must know how you got here. We’re just down the Prince’s Highway from Geelong.”
“Oh, OK.” I reflect on this woman’s distinctive speech and her mention of koalas. And, of course, the fires. I’m thinking this is Australia but I’m hesitant to reveal more of my ignorance.
“Aha, there’s my Stacey!” Lynn suddenly plunges towards some thick grass and emerges clutching a plump white goose. “Isn’t he a dear?” she clucks. She puts him down on the ground. “Ever since the fires started, he’s been distraught. Hardly remembers his manners. Where’s your brother Michael?” she queries the bird with a sweet voice. Did he follow you out the gate?”
Not waiting for an answer, she continues, “Go to bed, Stacey,” she commands him.
To my disbelief, Stacey begins a quick waddle back towards one of the pens. He slips inside and wags his tail. “Honk, honk,” he comments quietly.
A matching “Honk, honk” answers from behind a board.
“Ah, Michael!” Lynn cries. “I guess he found his way home on his own. Lynn turns to me, "Say, where are you staying?”
“Oh, I just got into town so I don’t have a place to stay yet. And I got dropped off, so I don’t have a car.”
“C’mon, I’m about to leave. I’ll drop you off at Alex’s place." Lynn gestures toward a beat up old camry.
As we walk to her car, I spot numerous feathers littering the yard. “Oh, can I have some of these?” I ask her. “I’m doing a school report on feathers.” When she nods, I start picking up every cool feather I see.
“Oh, of course. I’ll just be burning them all otherwise.”
Half an hour later we pull up to a quaint yellow Victorian house that almost hides behind a trellis covered with overgrown roses. I admire the gingerbread trim and the wide front porch. Though it is only one floor, it seems tall because of the soaring peaked metallic roof. I walk down the tree-lined side of the house, step up onto a slightly creaky back porch, and slip in the unlocked back door. I walk down the unlevel floor and take a seat at the big, rustic dining table in Alex’s kitchen. It’s so cool! The floor’s even got black and white checkerboard tiles! I spread the feathers out: guinea fowl feathers, peacock feathers, and exotic chicken plumage. I gaze at them hoping for inspiration.
And a thought brushes through my mind. Every time someone deals with Alex’s blue-black rooster feather, he or she is transported instantaneously to an unknown faraway place. Birds all wear feathers. They’re famous for making long arduous trips, sometimes of thousands of miles, without maps. How do they do that? Is there any connection with the feathers? Have I discovered the answer to bird navigation?
Do you think my Bio teacher will accept my theory?
Naw, probably not.
How would I explain my sources?
Meanwhile I sit and wait for Alex. What a chase this search has been! Will I ever actually meet him again? And I wonder if I can get the feather to take me back home, along with all my new ones.
Will I arrive back home at precisely the same time as I left, like in my previous experiences? Will I have time to write my report?
I’m getting peckish. I get up and start examining the contents of the cupboards. I know Alex will have chocolate and tea here somewhere!