– feed it to his dog; two – feed you to his dog.’
‘You’re being a little dramatic, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ said Ruby, ‘actually, NO. Remember Red’s hat?’ Del made a face, she remembered all right. ‘Oh, and don’t forget Clancy’s sweater, Clancy’s left sneaker, Clancy’s trumpet, my mom’s scarf – he apologised for that one, he even returned it, though the whole middle section was missing.’
‘OK,’ sighed Del, ‘I get your point, I’ll have to climb over the fence.’
‘With your wrist strapped? I don’t think so.’ Ruby stood up. ‘It’s me that’s gonna have to get it.’ Without another word, she stepped off the rooftop and onto the eucalyptus branch that extended towards the house. Darn it Del, she thought.
Ruby walked the branch like a tightrope walker might, arms outstretched and feet stepping one in front of the other, until she reached the end. From there she looked out across the yard and the alley that ran between the backs of the houses. She was looking to see where Mr Parker was and, perhaps more crucially, Mr Parker’s dog, Bubbles. Mr Parker was a man who rarely had a good word to say about anyone or anything. He just didn’t like people and as Mrs Digby so wisely said, ‘Steer clear of folks who don’t like folks.’ Bubbles, meanwhile, was a dog who didn’t like people, but did enjoy biting them. For these two reasons Ruby rarely trespassed on Mr Parker’s land, not if she could possibly help it.
She stood there perfectly still, listening for activity that might warn of her neighbour’s presence, but she could only hear the wind and feel its keenness to snatch her from her perch. She took a deep breath and leapt.
She landed on the branch of the tree next door and she didn’t stop, running now, climbing as high as the tree would take her. She moved so quickly that the weaker branches had no time to snap, her weight gone before the branch realised it could not hold her.
As Ruby swayed from limb to limb, reaching out to grab another, stepping lightly from one to the next, she felt almost like she were defying gravity, treading the space between things. Having left the safety of her own yard, she wanted nothing more than to retrieve the comic and get out of there. She couldn’t see Bubbles. She waited, she scanned the yard, looking all around, but there was no sign of the Doberman, which meant Mr Parker was out. Below her, a large cat watched, tail twitching, ready to pounce should the strange bird fall.
If Bubbles was here, she reasoned, then this cat would be running for its life.
She dropped to the ground, ran to the middle of the lawn and snatched up the comic, then stuffed it down her sweatshirt and began to climb back up the tree.
‘What exactly are you doing?’
The voice came from far below.
It wasn’t one Ruby recognised and in her confusion she nearly toppled from the branch.
‘Relax!’ came a different voice. ‘It’s just me!’
‘Jeepers Clance! Is that supposed to be funny? You nearly half scared the wits out of me.’
‘Sorry Rube.’ He was staring up from the alley at the back of the houses, his eyes hidden behind a pair of flower-shaped dark glasses. ‘But actually what are you doing?’
‘Dicing with death.’
‘I’ll say,’ said Clancy. ‘You do know that if Mr Parker catches you you’ll be skinned alive?’
‘That’s the kind of thing Mrs Digby would say.’
‘Yes, and she happens to be right.’
‘And I happen to know he’s gotta be out – there’s no sign of Bubbles.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’
‘You scared, Crew?’
‘Sure I’m scared – and not of the dog. Mr Parker is one mean old man.’
‘You don’t wanna be scared of Mr Parker,’ said Ruby, preparing to jump back towards home. ‘Mr Parker is a pussycat.’ She leapt.
At that exact moment a voice bellowed and Ruby, losing concentration, failed to catch the branch her outstretched arm was reaching for and tumbled through the leaves, grabbing at any flimsy twigs that might prevent her fall.
‘Boy!’ the new voice boomed. ‘What are you doing peering over my yard fence?’
Clancy twisted around to see the angry beet-coloured face of Mr Parker.
‘Oh, me,’ stammered Clancy, ‘me?’
‘Yes, you, idiot. Is there another skinny, good-for-nothing chump looking into my yard?’
‘I wouldn’t think so Mr Parker, I’ll bet I’m the only one.’
‘So answer me quick – what’s got you so interested in my property?’
‘I saw a raccoon,’ said Clancy, ‘more than one, several, in fact lots of them. I was going to inform you because I thought you would want to, you know, call raccoon control?’
‘I don’t need raccoon control,’ he spat. ‘I’ll simply set my dog on them just as soon as I find her – she’s gone AWOL.’ He whistled a command as if to illustrate the point. ‘Disappeared into thin air,’ said Mr Parker. ‘I don’t suppose you know something about that, do you?’ He trained his beady eyes on Clancy and Clancy stepped back a pace.
‘Why would I, Mr Parker? But I’m happy to help you look.’
Unfortunately, Ruby’s cluster of twigs parted company with the tree at that moment and she was again tumbling through the branches and this time to the ground.
‘Ouch.’
Mr Parker’s ears pricked up. ‘Was that an ouch?’ he said, fumbling for his gate key.
‘I doubt it,’ said Clancy. ‘I’ve never heard a raccoon say ouch.’
‘Don’t get smart with me boy. It’s that Redfort girl, isn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t think so sir.’
But Mr Parker wasn’t listening. ‘Girl!’ he bellowed. ‘You’re in trouble so deep you’ll need that hound of yours to dig you out.’
‘Hey, let me help you with that key,’ said Clancy, knocking the key out of the old man’s hand. It fell between the bars of a drain cover, clattered into the darkness and that was that for Mr Parker’s gate key.
This delaying tactic gave Ruby just enough time to stumble to her feet, then half-run half-limp across the Parker lawn.
Mr Parker whistled again to his dog and this time Ruby thought she did hear something: not a bark, not a yap, but perhaps a whimper. It was the noise an injured dog might make. It was coming from the space underneath the house.
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