Tall Story - Candy Gourlay [48]
I gasped. How did she know?
She lifted the wishing stone from her bosom on its chain and swung it like a pendulum. Malevolence twisted the pretty face.
‘Idiot!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘You thought you could sneak in here and steal the stone! What were you going to do? Hold me down and rip it off my neck?’
I did not trust myself to speak.
‘Or maybe you wanted to make a wish!’ She thumbed the stone and grinned.
‘I know! You obviously think you’re some kind of hero. Some kind of Bernardo Carpio.’ She closed her eyes and pressed it against her heart. ‘Stone, let this pipsqueak turn into a Bernardo Carpio!’
Bernardo Carpio!
My mouth dropped open. She would have me turn into a giant? She was mad.
Suddenly the door flew open. Nena stood in the doorway, an ugly smirk on her face.
‘Putris! Who is this?’
I saw the glimmer of alarm on Gabriela’s face as she whirled towards her mother.
‘You insolent girl!’ Nena snatched one of the whips from the wall and advanced on Gabriela, fury etched on her face.
‘Ma, I can explain!’ Gabriela let go of the wishing stone and backed away. I realized with surprise that, domineering, outrageous and vicious though she was, Gabriela feared her mother.
This was my chance.
My only chance.
I leaped up, bumbling into the statue behind me. The angry Christ teetered, and for a moment I thought it was going to fall on me.
In my haste to get out of the way, I blundered into Gabriela.
But the statue, weirdly, didn’t fall. It righted itself.
‘Grab him!’ Nena screamed.
Gabriela snatched me up against her in a tight embrace. I found my face pressed against the black stone dangling from her neck. My hand closed around it and I pulled it hard as I lunged away from her clutches. The necklace snapped off with a tiny ping.
‘No!’ Nena’s face was livid. ‘Gabriela, he’s got the stone!’
‘Give it back, you little monster!’ Gabriela, her eyes angry and staring, her teeth bared, looked more beast than beauty.
I ran for the front door.
There was a howl and I remembered with horror the sign on their front door. Beware of the Dog. Judas! Oh please oh please oh please. I could hear the dog’s toenails clattering on the tiled floor behind me, its heavy panting interspersed with a ferocious growling.
I reached the door and my numbed fingers fumbled to undo the massive latch. Suddenly Gabriela was upon me, her long fingernails digging into my arms as she tried to tear me away from the door. We tumbled down to the ground, me trying to get away, Gabriela’s nails biting into my hand.
Then the dog’s wild barking was suddenly closer. It leaped on us and I could smell the stench of its breath, feel the heat of its body.
Gabriela screamed and let go of me. I didn’t wait to see what had happened. I yanked the door open and ran out.
As I stumbled away, I looked over my shoulder. Gabriela’s arm was caught fast between Judas’ slavering jaws. The witch was there, frantic, pulling at the dog’s collar. But the dog was not letting go. Gabriela screamed, struggling to get away. There was a mad, unseeing look in the beast’s eyes as it shook the limb from side to side, the saliva foaming from its mouth stained crimson by Gabriela’s blood.
I ran.
And as I ran, my courage shrivelled and turned black like a rotten banana.
Because after all that, I had failed.
I was such an idiot.
In the struggle, I had dropped the stone.
27
Andi
‘I have sorry. My English is … barok.’
Barok. Baroque? Broken?
‘It’s OK, Bernardo, I understand everything.’
How many times had Bernardo apologized for his English? I couldn’t seem to make him understand that it really, really was OK.
In a funny way, I think I do get a lot of Tagalog. Language is just like a film soundtrack. I’ve heard Mum and Dad say, Hey, that piece of music was the soundtrack of my childhood! Well. Bernardo’s barok English was just him singing his soundtrack in another key. Not his key. My key. When I thought about it that way, it wasn’t the funny, broken English that I heard but the story he wanted to tell.
And what