* * *
Neville was only seconds behind, but by the time he got outside, she’d already disappeared. It would take him five minutes to find her, though admittedly, four and half of those minutes would be taken up by Mister Shoomba who was, as he often was these days, standing at the end of the row of paper barks that separated Shoomba Territory from Home Country. He was studying the Lightning Bug - the derelict boat that had been sinking into the weeds in that corner of his yard for all the time that Neville could remember.
“Used ta be a great little boat, the Bug!” he said when Neville accidentally made eye contact with him. “Take ye to Silly ‘n’back, on nothin’ but a fart an’ a hiccup! Know what I mean? Tell ‘er where ye wanna go an’ she’d be off like a bloodhound! Bloody pirates down the boat ramp offered me a truckload o’ cash for ‘er once. They wanted ‘er alright! Shoulda flogged ‘er off, I s’pose, but who knew she’d wind up land lubbered, eh? Now lookit ‘er! Couldn’ get a dead mackeral out’ve a Lower Slobovian fisherman for ‘er! How’s yer ma?”
“She’s got a cold maybe, I think, Mister Shoomba. Drippy nose ‘n’ stuff.”
“Yeh? Might bring ‘er some lemons later on then, eh! Bit o’ hot lemonade’s magic fer the chest. She ever tell ye that, mate? Drink it down or rub it on, either one. What about yer ol’ man? Still down wi’ the wobblies?”
“His mind’s in the jungle, mum says. Because of the war. But he’s very brave.”
“Course he is! Course he is! Came home a Hero, didn’ he? Always a cost though. Tell you what, I could tell you Hero-stories, kid. Make your hair stand on end.”
“You been to the war, Mister Shoomba?”
“Not literally speakin’, no. But in me own fashion, mate, I been everywhere there is to be an’ seen everythin’ there is to see. Includin’ a fair bit a man’s eyeball ought not to be subjected to. Know what I mean?”
“No sir. Were there really pirates at the boat ramp?”
“Mate! Were there what! An’ still are, no doubt about it! Ol’Bluebeard an’ Cap’m Hook got nothin’ on that mob down the ramp! Steal the scales off a fish, they would! Steal the freckles off a barnacle. Be wearin’ your buttons in their ears if yer not awake-up to ‘em an’ that’s the God’s honest truth. Know why? ‘Cause most folks’re too chicken-liveried to stand up for what’s theirs, ‘at’s why! Too cock-a-doodle-don’t to see the bad uns off, that’s what most folks are! Me, I’d wrestle a Taswegian tiger ‘f it was gettin’ amongst me stuff! Ownership, see? Countryside! Lifestyle! ‘At’s what it’s all about. See that?”
As though it would clarify his point, he waved his hand at the expansive piles of detritus around his yard and house. “That house? That gear? Shoomba belongin’s, mate! On Shoomba Territory - of which I’m king. The king ye gotta get up way before crow fart to get anythin’ over! ‘Cause ‘at’s exactly what hard experience taught me, see? Take hold an’ hang on! ‘Cause sure as Hell’s a-poppin’, someone’s gonna come along an’ wanna change things up on ya.”
“Yes sir. You seen Ava? She came out just a minute ago an’ I’m s’posed to throw a stick for her.”
“That Stinkin’ Shaggy Little Bitch! Tell ye what, I’ll throw a stick right up her arse, I catch ‘er over here again! Should be tied up an’ you can tell your ma I said so! Bloody dog mess all over Hell’s Half Acre over here!”
“Okay. Thanks Mister Shoomba.”
“Sure, sure. Listen, you tell yer ma she needs anything, ol’ Dennis the Menace Shoomba’s her man, eh?”
“Okay. Thanks Mister Shoomba.”
“No worries. An’ mate? Yer ol’ man? Jus’ gotta accept it, see. War burns a man up, that’s what. Hero or no, it cooks ‘im from the inside out! Medical fact, that; straight from the war books. Never be the same again. Ye can write them words down, matey, an’ they’ll be as true in a year as they are today. So ye may’s well just start workin’ around him, ‘at’s my advice. Be the responsible male in your family, eh? Lord o’ your manor, like I’m lord o’ mine, right? Lookin’ out for your ma’ ‘n’ all. Eh? Hm? Yessir, young Neville! King o’ that there castle, you, whether you like it or not! You up for it?”
I don’t need to be up for it, thought Neville the Less. Because no jungle will ever hold Neville the More. You wait and see! But all he said was, “Yep. Thanks Mister Shoomba.”