The raven peeked out from an azalea bush. ‘It’s not looking good,’ he said.
‘She’s just in one of her moods.’ Todd folded himself through a branch and grinned. ‘You’re more than a match for her.’
‘She’s giving me the evil eye.’
‘Probably ’cause she knows you’re spying on her.’
The raven hopped from claw to claw. ‘I’m waiting for the right moment.’ He opened his beak and tilted his neck up to let off a few nervous caws. His wings fluttered up and down. Korkorkorkor.
‘Just approach with caution,’ Todd said.
‘Easier said than done.’
Mackenzie paced round and round her brother’s grave like a toy car with a faulty battery. Every now and then she would look over the raven’s way and her eyes would narrow in her scrunched-up face.
Korkorkorkor.
‘Shut up, crow!’ she shouted. ‘I told you before to get!’
‘A raven,’ mumbled the raven. ‘I am a raven. Not a crow. Not a blackbird. A raven.’
‘What are you looking at, you overgrown blackbird!’
‘A raven. I am a raven.’
‘Sooner you speak to her, sooner she’ll stop insulting you.’ Todd floated up past the azalea bush with his arms crossed behind his head. ‘I’ll just hang about here and wait for you to work up enough guts.’
‘Come on over here,’ Mackenzie was shouting. ‘Just you come! I’d like to see you try.’
‘Try what?’
‘To eat me,’ said Todd, unfazed.
‘Kraaa! I don’t want to eat you!’
‘Well, go over and tell her that.’
‘I am, I am.’ The raven moved half a claw forward. ‘It’s difficult, you know. I’m putting my whole species at risk. Not that some don’t deserve it. Kookaburras. Sparrows. Crows. Seagulls. Water fowls. I could do without them. Especially pigeons. But still, the fate of the skies hangs from the very tip of my beak.’
‘Don’t be so dramatic.’
‘I said come over!’ Mackenzie scooped up a nearby pebble and lobbed it at the raven.
It missed entirely, but it didn’t fail to dent the raven’s ego. Nobody threw rocks at him. Especially in his own churchyard. He drew himself up to his full height and stepped out from behind the azaleas.
‘Right,’ he said. ‘That’s it. I am going to do it.’
‘If you even try one more step, my brother will stop you,’ Mackenzie said, her temper rising in her cheeks. ‘He will. He’ll kill you. He’ll come outta his grave and rip you to shreds.’
And then she sank to her knees and burst into tears.
‘He’s gonna come for me,’ she said, and tucked herself up, cradling her knees in her arms as she lay there like a dying centipede, curled into the crook of her brother’s grave.
‘Well, that doesn’t solve anything,’ the raven said, and started towards the girl. Once again he caught a whiff of strawberries and he felt Todd following close behind, no more than a puff of air.
He stopped a few metres away from Mackenzie’s subdued form. Her sobs were little hiccups now, lost in the incredible sadness that engulfed her body.
The raven composed himself and waddled forward a few more steps. He cleared his throat. Pruuuuuk-pruuk-pruk-pruk. Mackenzie still didn’t move.
And then he did it.
‘Excuse me,’ he said.
The girl said nothing, but the raven was sure her foot moved an inch or so. He cleared his throat – pruuuk-pruk – and tried again.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said.
‘What do you want?’
‘Well –’ said the raven.
‘Go away.’
The girl’s voice wisped out from among her bunched-up arms and legs. This was not the reaction the raven had expected. She was supposed to look up and see him – a bird – talking to her. She was supposed to make a big scene. Not just ignore the enormity of what he’d just done. It was unforgiveable.
‘Just in case you haven’t realised, I’m talking to you.’
‘I know, dumbo,’ said Mackenzie.
‘Yes,’ said the raven, ‘but I’m talking to you. Me.’
‘I know,’ came the girl’s voice. ‘I don’t care. Go away.’
‘But, but . . .’ The raven turned around in a circle and stuck his beak close to where he supposed her eyes would be. ‘Do you realise what I am?’
‘Yeah,’ snapped Mackenzie. ‘Some dumb bird.’
‘Charming sister you’ve got there,’ the raven whispered to Todd. ‘That’s just great. The last big revelation of my life and no one even cares.’
Mackenzie sighed, as though all the air was being expelled from her body. She uncurled herself and sat up, grubby and red-faced. ‘Stop whining,’ she said. ‘It’s not a big deal. I’m not stupid – I know birds can talk.’
The raven stared at her. Todd swirled in the air behind him, his mouth gaping open.
‘News to you too?’ the raven asked him.
‘Well?’ said Mackenzie. ‘What do you want?’
The raven looked closer and realised that her whole body was shaking. Fearing another outburst of tears, he decided it was best to keep her talking. ‘You’re not surprised?’ he said.
‘’Bout what?’
‘That I can speak?’
Mackenzie shrugged. ‘I always knew it. Every kid knows it. Ain’t a big deal.’
‘Maybe not to you,’ the raven said, strutting forward and discovering some of his old spark. ‘But it’s not something we like to spread around. I would appreciate if you could keep this just between us.’
Mackenzie pushed her hair out of her eyes and flopped back into the grass. ‘You’re not that interesting that I’m gonna go tell everyone about what you got to say.’
‘Nevertheless,’ the raven said, ‘it’s very important that nobody else knows – especially adults.’
‘Wouldn’t believe me anyway,’ said Mackenzie, ‘even if I did tell them.’
‘Right,’ said the raven, ‘so we have an understanding?’
Mackenzie kicked out her feet and rolled over onto her stomach. She began to pick at the grass, making a point of ignoring the raven. ‘Leave me alone,’ she said.
‘Believe me, I would,’ he said. ‘Your manners are disgraceful. Not to mention your personal grooming. But I promised your brother –’
The raven had never seen anyone move so fast. In an instant Mackenzie was towering over him, her eyes nearly busting out of her face.
‘My brother?’ she said. ‘What do you know about him?’