CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Marnie kept tweeting photos and videos – me and a lamb asleep in front of the fire, me and a lamb out in the snow with matching scarves around our necks, me and a lamb inspecting the gold miners’ water race though there was no gold these days, me perched on a lamb’s back and talking my head off, me and a lamb hiding in the basket of clean washing – and the people on the internet loved us. They adored us.

‘OMG can you stop?’ read Marnie. ‘My ovaries can’t take it any more! That’s it I’m moving to New Zealand and marrying a farmer. I’m dying here, DYING. Tama don’t you dare let me catch you with the mint sauce LOL.’

‘Three hundred thousand followers?’ said Ange, peering at Marnie’s phone screen. ‘How did that happen?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Marnie.

‘I have no idea,’ I said.

‘Well, you must be doing something right.’

We were sitting on the back porch one warm morning, watching Rob train for the axeman’s carnival. He was practising on an upright length of trunk as thick as a person, and he chopped into its middle on one side, the cut gaping like an open mouth, then ran round to start on the other. Soon only the narrowest waist remained, and with one last blow he sent the top half thumping to the ground. Marnie stopped the timer.

‘How long?’ he called.

‘Twenty-nine,’ she called back.

He cursed, kicked the felled trunk.

‘He’s worried he’s past his prime,’ Marnie whispered. ‘There’s a younger, stronger guy who’s going to topple him.’

‘This one, you mean?’ said Ange, scratching me on the back of my head. ‘So strong and handsome. Aren’t you? Aren’t you?’

I closed my eyes, warbled a wordless song.

‘Look at him,’ said Marnie. ‘He loves his Aunty Ange.’ She picked up a fallen feather and held it to the light to see all the tiny branches, all the little barbs.

‘Mum doesn’t get it,’ said Ange. ‘The thousands of followers. She can understand people wanting to see the lambs – very cute when they’re that size, all soft and helpless. But a magpie, Angela? she says in that voice of hers. There’s just something evil about them.’

The drop of devil’s blood in my mouth. The bad luck, the sorrow, the death.

‘Pay no attention, Tama,’ said Marnie, holding out her arm to me like a branch.

I climbed up to her shoulder. Nuzzled her cheek. ‘I’m touching him, oh no, I’m touching him,’ I said.

She smiled. ‘See, such a good boy. Mum doesn’t know the real you.’

‘She’ll change her mind once the money starts rolling in,’ said Ange. ‘When’s Lakshmi coming? I bet she can’t wait to get her teeth into him.’

Which couldn’t mean what I thought it meant. Could it?

‘End of next week,’ said Marnie.

‘She’s super-sharp. The sharpest in our year.’

‘Her emails are very … decisive.’

‘She ate our tutors alive.’

‘Shit, really?’

‘Got one of them fired for making a comment about her chest – but everyone knew she dressed for the attention. Fed on it.’

‘Shit,’ said Marnie.

‘Shit,’ I said.

‘Oh, she’ll be fine with you. You’re the client.’

Rob turned his gaze to an entire trunk that stretched up above his head, twice his height. A tree stripped of its branches, metal roots securing it to the ground. He looked over at Marnie, axe poised.

‘And … go!’ she called, starting the timer.

He cut a notch into the side of the trunk, jammed in a board and sprang up onto it.

‘What the fuck’s he doing?’ said Ange.

‘It’s the Tree Felling Event,’ said Marnie. ‘They have to climb the trunk by way of the boards, cut halfway through the block at the top, then climb back down and repeat the process on the other side.’

‘How can he even balance on that thing?’ said Ange, watching the second board flex under Rob’s feet. ‘Has he ever fallen off?’

‘Not since I’ve known him.’

‘No way is he past his prime,’ said Ange. ‘He’s a bloody machine.’

‘A bloody machine,’ I said.

Marnie was stroking my back in time with Rob’s blows, and I closed my eyes again for a moment, breathed in the smell of her. ‘Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?’ she said. ‘Taking on Lakshmi?’

‘She’s very, very good at her job,’ said Ange. ‘You should see her house. Her car.’

‘No, but I mean – making money out of Tama.’

‘A bloody machine,’ I said.

‘Why the hell not? It’s fallen from the sky right into your lap. You’d be crazy not to exploit it.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘And you keep telling me the farm’s not making any money and Rob’s under so much pressure.’

‘He is. He is.’

‘But he hasn’t done it again, right?’ Ange glanced over at him swinging his axe on the uppermost board, shattering the wood’s soft heart. She lowered her voice. ‘He hasn’t hit you again?’

‘I wish you’d stop asking me that. It was only ever the one time. He doesn’t know his own strength.’

I said nothing.

‘And it was an accident,’ she added. ‘Because he was drunk, and under pressure.’

I said nothing.

‘Remember you can come to us,’ said Ange. ‘Day or night.’

‘He loves me,’ said Marnie. ‘He’d do anything for me. Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t they?’

I said nothing.

‘Okay, okay, just looking out for you. I like the guy, you know that.’ Ange flicked through the latest photos of me with the lambs. ‘Is that one in your washing machine?’ she said.

‘Yeah. With Tama about to press the Woollens and Delicates button.’

‘That’s kind of twisted.’

‘We didn’t actually start it! It was all staged!’

‘But what if some sick copycat out there decides to have a go?’

Marnie sighed. ‘I’ve had some horrible messages from animal rights people. He belongs in the wild, who are you to play God, we know where you live, we will come for your children, what kind of monster, etcetera. What they’re forgetting is that he wouldn’t have survived without me.’

‘You see? You have to be careful. Lakshmi can help you with that.’

‘I’d never hurt an animal. Never. Tama has a great life with us. And Rob looks out for every single lamb. Beats himself up for days if he loses one.’

The block split in two, and Marnie stopped the timer. ‘Two thirty-nine!’ she called, and Rob nodded and wiped his hand over his face.

‘That was two forty-seven, though,’ said Ange.

‘Shh,’ said Marnie.

I saw a black shape passing above us, and flashes of white under its wings and tail: my father patrolling his territory, protecting his new family. Watching us with his red eye. I knew he could swoop like a gale, like a god, and it was swooping season.

‘Okay, I’ve worked out our act,’ said Ange. ‘Can we go inside now?’

They shut themselves in the master bedroom and stood in front of the mirror, Ange on the left to showcase her good side.

‘What about my good side?’ said Marnie, examining her reflection.

‘Both sides are your good side,’ said Ange. She began to sing their song, putting different actions to each line, and Marnie copied her. Soon they were both smiling and pointing and nodding at their reflections and at each other, bending and turning, hands on hips, hands on knees. Blowing kisses.

‘G-rated enough for you?’ said Ange.

‘It’s sweet,’ said Marnie. ‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t say I never listen to you.’

‘How’s Mum going with our costumes?’

‘They’re looking amazing. She can only work on them when Nick’s not around, but they’ll definitely be ready in time for the carnival.’

‘Mar?’ I called, and they both jumped. ‘Are you there?’

‘It’s just Tama,’ said Marnie. ‘Up to his tricks.’

One day soon after, we were in the kitchen, having lunch – Marnie was getting the tomato relish from the pantry, and Rob and I were sitting at the table – when two faces appeared at the window: a pair of young men carrying backpacks taller than their heads. They wore puffy black jackets that made them look like car tyres come to life, monstrous living car tyres aimed at the house, and as soon as I saw them I ducked down onto my furry cushion. They waved through the glass at Rob.

‘What the hell?’ he said, halfway through his cheese and chicken sandwich. He opened the back door.

‘Hello,’ said the one with the blue backpack, ‘we are Klaus and Volker from Hamburg. We would like now to meet the bird who thinks he is a person.’ He held out his hand.

‘Yeah, piss off, mate,’ said Rob.

‘What’s this about?’ said Marnie, coming over to the door. ‘Are you lost?’

‘Hello,’ said Blue Backpack, holding out his hand again, ‘we are Klaus and Volker from Hamburg. We would like now to meet the bird who thinks he is a person.’

‘Ah,’ said Marnie.

‘Mate, this is a private house,’ said Rob.

‘Is the bird who thinks he is a person at this time unavailable?’ said Blue Backpack.

‘Well …’ said Marnie.

‘No idea what you’re on about,’ said Rob.

‘But this is the bird, I think,’ said Green Backpack, peering around him.

‘There’s no bloody bird,’ said Rob.

‘Look at him going in for the kill,’ I said.

‘This is him! This is Tama!’ said Green Backpack. ‘I see him on the chair underneath the table. Volker, do you see him?’

‘Yes, yes, this is the bird!’ said Blue Backpack. ‘This is his favourite cushion! He is wearing his wizard costume!’

‘We’re not fucking Hobbiton,’ said Rob. He tried to close the door, but they had already stepped inside.

Death by car, sang the ghosts of my brothers. Death by car.

‘They’ve come all this way,’ said Marnie.

‘Do you know them?’ said Rob. ‘Have you been messaging them?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘Has she been messaging you?’ he asked.

‘No,’ they said.

He looked them up and down. ‘Are you gay?’

‘Yes,’ said Blue Backpack, ‘we are German homosexuals.’

Green Backpack nodded. ‘Tama is enormous with German homosexuals.’

‘They’ve come all this way,’ said Marnie.

Rob threw his hands in the air. ‘Apparently I have no say in my own house. Perfect.’

Marnie was smiling and bending down to me, saying it’s all right, Tama, they’re our friends, you don’t need to be scared. I hopped onto the floor and walked over to the visitors, who had come all this way, and they were German homosexuals, not living car tyres, and Marnie was right and my brothers were wrong. I pecked at the wormy bootlace trailing from Green Backpack’s boot, thanking my lucky stars.

‘Volker, get out your phone!’ he said. ‘Quick, quick!’

‘Oh my goodness, he thinks it is a worm,’ said Blue Backpack.

I kept pecking at it until they had their video.

‘You have no idea what this means,’ said Green Backpack.

‘No idea at all,’ said Rob.

‘Look at him tearing it limb from limb,’ I said.

‘He sounds exactly like a human!’ said Green Backpack.

‘You knock him out, and I’ll get the scalpel,’ I said.

‘This is very astonishing,’ said Blue Backpack, and he began unzipping the many zips on Green Backpack’s bag. ‘Does he like to eat muesli bars?’ he said. ‘Klaus, where are the muesli bars?’

‘They are just there, in the top pocket.’

‘They are not in the top pocket.’

‘I know I stored them in the top pocket.’

‘Perhaps you stored them in your fat stomach. Like the last banana.’

‘You don’t like to eat bananas when they are very ripe. This banana was very ripe.’

‘It was the last banana. You could have shared it with me like a normal polite person.’

‘I am a normal polite person, and also—’

‘You gobbled it all up when I was making a photo of the Hundertwasser toilets.’

‘—and also, my stomach is not fat.’

‘It’s a bit fat. Ah, here are the muesli bars, in the middle pocket and not as you said in the top pocket.’

‘So it appears I did not eat the muesli bars.’

‘Just the last banana.’

When Blue Backpack tore open the wrapping I could smell oats and brazil nuts and almonds and honey.

‘Is it allowed?’ Green Backpack asked Marnie.

‘We try not to let him have too much human food,’ she said.

I fluttered up to sit on Blue Backpack’s shoulder and leaned in close to the bar.

‘Klaus! Klaus! Make a picture!’

‘I am a normal polite person,’ I said.

‘Oh my goodness!’ said Blue Backpack. ‘He copied you! He copied you!’

I hopped onto his arm and began to whistle Wild Thing. I could have snatched the whole bar then and there.

‘Just a small piece?’ he said to Marnie. ‘It’s gluten free. Very low GI.’

‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ said Rob.

‘Okay,’ said Marnie.

‘And will you please now make several photos of us feeding Tama?’

‘Okay.’

‘Klaus, pull your stomach in.’

I took little bites of the bar: oats and brazil nuts and almonds and honey, and dates and raisins too, and chunks of a sweet yellow fruit that tasted like the sun.

‘Don’t you dare make a blurry photo, ha ha,’ said Green Backpack.

‘Stop moving your mouth then,’ said Blue Backpack.

‘I am a normal polite person,’ I said.

*

Later that day, when Marnie was feeding the motherless lambs in their boxes, Rob came into the living room and lay in his TV chair. ‘The thing I’m wondering, Mar,’ he said, ‘is how they found our house.’

‘I don’t know,’ she said.

‘How could anyone possibly find us, unless they had the address?’

‘I really don’t know,’ she said.

‘I mean, do you think they just wandered round the country, peering in windows, looking for a magpie?’

‘No,’ she said.

‘No,’ he said.

‘No,’ I said.

‘Well, did you put the address online?’

‘Why would I do that?’

‘Beats me.’

‘Beats me,’ I said.

Marnie dragged one of the lambs a bit further away from the fire so it wouldn’t cook. She picked at a soft spot in the floorboards. ‘I might …’ she began. ‘I might have mentioned Wilderness Road in one of the photo captions.’

‘Right,’ said Rob. ‘Which is, you know, our address.’

‘Yeah,’ said Marnie.

‘Yeah,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ I said.

The lambs were bleating for their bottles, snatching at the teats.

‘There must be hundreds of Wilderness Roads out there, though,’ she said. ‘All over the country. There must be.’

‘Mmm. Except I had a bit of a look at your posts, and you talk about Central Otago weather, and high-country weather, and the cherry orchard just down the hill … you don’t have to be a detective.’

‘That’s cocaine all right, Trent,’ I said. ‘Book him.’

‘I guess I didn’t really think it through.’

‘Marnie, you show the house in some of the shots.’

‘People wanted to see him sitting on the porch. Using the cat door. Lakshmi says we should be connecting with his followers.’ She looked over at Rob, and the teat popped out of the mouth of the lamb she was feeding.

‘So you just post pictures of whatever they want to see. Show us your bedroom, Marnie. Show us your shower, Marnie. Show us your bush, Marnie.’

‘You know it’s not like that.’

‘No I don’t. I still have hundreds of messages to read. New ones every day.’

‘I’m telling you, there’s nothing to find. There’s nothing to be jealous of.’

‘Have they all figured out where we live? Are we going to get busloads of tourists showing up?’

‘I’ll delete those posts.’

‘The horse has already bolted, Mar! It’s three towns away by now, charging down the main street, trampling pedestrians!’

‘Klaus and Volker were nice, though.’

‘The thing is, I should be able to eat a cheese and fucking chicken sandwich at my own kitchen table without gay Germans barging in.’

‘They were harmless. Lakshmi says—’

‘You know, I’m a bit fucking sick of Lakshmi.’

‘We haven’t even met her yet.’

‘Exactly.’

‘She says she has high hopes for Tama. She says he ticks all the boxes. She’s already getting nibbles from advertisers. A garden-sprinkler place. A new brand of corn chips. Even, she hinted, Air New Zealand. This could be our chance to turn things round, Rob. Don’t you want to make some money?’

‘Of course I want to make some money, Marnie. That’s why I’m going along with it. Just watch your step, is all I’m saying.’

‘Money Marnie, money Marnie,’ I sang.

The lamb followed her hand and latched back onto the teat, frantic for the milk. Drinking for its life.