Helix and the Arrival (22 page)

‘Thanks,' I say, as a moment's quietness falls. ‘I just want to say that … that … that I've crossed the river and there's nothing to be scared of.'

I can hear Speel laughing below me. Others join in until there is a chorus of laughter, ranging from polite chuckles to one caveman laughing so hard that it looks as if his hairy stomach is about to detach itself from his body.

It seems hopeless, but then I think of Herb: how could I make him proud at this moment?

‘Stop it!' I say, louder than I had intended. My voice echoes off the mountain. Folk are so shocked to hear someone as unimportant as me shout at them that they are instantly quiet.

‘I have met the folk of the river and they are good, honest people. Yes, they eat food grown from the ground, but it tastes delicious. Yes, they live in roundhouses made of mud, but these houses are larger than they appear from the mountain and are even more comfortable than caves. And as for them being primitive, small-minded people – well, that's a lie.'

Some folk in the crowd are booing me. I'm half-expecting a rock to come flying my way. But I've made it this far, so I'm not going to stop.

‘You only believe these horrid things about the river people because of what you've been told. Let me ask you this: have any of you ever met a river person? Have you ever visited the lowlands and experienced what it is like? Have you ever eaten the food that the river folk make? And did you know that the lowlands have a proper name, Fenswell?'

The booing is getting softer now – though maybe it's just because folk are thinking of the best anthill to bury me in.

‘And as for the Dark Side – you can see from those who have come to this Gathering today that folk from the Dark Side don't need to be feared. And if you ever visit the Dark Side, like I have –' there's another gasp from the crowd ‘– you'll probably not want to leave because the views there are like nothing else!'

I stop talking. There's a lot for everyone to take in. Speel is searching the crowd with his eye, willing them to boo, hiss or throw a rock at me.

I continue. ‘The only reason you believe what you do is because it has supposedly been written on the sacred tablets. But the truth is that the world beyond the mountain is much less scary than you've been taught.'

‘Enough!' shouts Speel. ‘Lies! Foolish lies!'

‘And some say that there is no Land's End!' I shout. ‘And that the world continues on as far as the eye can see.'

‘Sacrilege!' cries Speel. ‘Remove him!' he says, looking to Crag and Tor.

‘How can we know for sure that there is a Land's End when we haven't seen for ourselves?' I say in desperation now.

I glance down and see that many in the crowd are looking angry. They are on Speel's side and are casting vengeful looks at me for daring to cricitise their beliefs.

But from somewhere behind them, bodies are being pushed aside, making way for …

Ugthorn!

Folk are looking at him as though he's risen from the dead. As he walks, he holds his injured side. He looks
pale and sunken – he has lost a lot of weight – yet he is still the man he always was.

Ugthorn reaches the front of the crowd and stands at the base of the speaking rock. I can see that it hurts him to talk, but his voice has a strength that reaches through the crowd, and his great height means that he is a head above everyone so can be seen by all.

‘Folk of the mountain, the boy speaks the truth. I stand before you thanks to medicine from the lowlands, medicine that came from the river people. It saved my life.'

‘Lies!' cries Speel, but he takes a backwards step as Crag and Tor lean menacingly in his direction.

‘For too long we have closed our minds to the world beyond Rockfall and the mountain,' says Ugthorn. ‘Let the boy finish what he was saying, and do not let fear rule your reason.' Ugthorn's strong eyes turn towards me, urging me to continue.

‘I'm not saying,' I continue, ‘that you need to set off tomorrow, cross the river and make friends with a river person. But how about, for starters, getting to know your fellow mountain folk? Visit somewhere new: Newstone has beautiful big caves, the Dark Side has the most wonderful views, and Rockfall … well, Rockfall is … is easy to get to because it's in the middle,' I say, scratching my head.

I spot Dad with his thumbs up, nodding at me. He's thinking of torism.

‘I'm not saying that I know everything … In fact, I don't know that much – I'm just a caveboy, after all. But what I can say for sure is that the world beyond our
caves is worth visiting. If we spend the rest of our lives on this mountain, if we let our beliefs be ruled by fear, then one day we will fade away as a people.'

‘He's right!' screeches Saleeka.

‘I want to know what's written on the tablets!' yells someone from the Dark Side huddle.

‘We want better food!' cries someone from Newstone.

‘No more skintaxes,' screams Rex.

‘Torism is the future!' booms Dad.

Excited pockets of conversation sprout up among the crowd – and they're not just between those who know each other, but between folk who have never met. Smartly dressed folk from Newstone are talking to odd-looking folk from the Dark Side. They're beginning to mingle and form a single group.

Speel goes to step back up onto the speaking rock but Tor sticks his arm out to block his path.

‘You've had your chance to talk,' says Crag.

I look around. Dad is introducing himself to strangers as the father of the boy on the rock, and making special mention of torism to everyone he meets; Steckman has appeared from behind the speaking rock and is trying to inform a small group of men that Porgo is not for eating; Ug and his family are embracing Ugthorn; Saleeka is whistling with joy and shaking her arms above her head; and … no … is that Sherwin talking to the white-haired meatcake girl? It is!

‘Wait!' comes a voice from the crowd … a voice that sounds a lot like my mother's.

Oh no.

‘It's okay, Mum,' I mime, making a there's-no-need-to-say-anything hand gesture. But there's no stopping Mum when she wants to be heard.

‘It's all very good that we've solved world peace up here today, but what about my son's Arrival? He might not have come back with a sabre-tooth, but he's achieved quite a lot in the past few days and I, for one, am very proud of him.' She dabs her eyes with a skinkerchief.

I watch as Korg is given a free path, thanks to the help of Crag and Tor, back up to the top of the speaking rock. I jump down to clear the way.

Korg holds his hands in the air for quiet. ‘If I might … The Arrival represents much more than hunting and so-called sacred knowledge. And in recent times, I fear, its true meaning has been somewhat lost.'

I look at Speel. His face is so screwed up that it looks as if it's about to eat itself.

‘Before all of you were born, the Arrival was a test of leadership and bravery. And perhaps, most importantly, it was a chance for caveboys to demonstrate their true selves – what makes them special, if you like.'

It's so quiet you could hear a bone drop. Folk are listening to every word Korg is saying, fascinated to hear some real knowledge of the past.

‘If I remember correctly, in times gone past, it was not up to the Korg – and definitely not up to the Storykeeper – to decide if a caveboy had passed his Arrival. Instead, it was voted on by those who were most important: the people of the mountain. So, if
there are no objections, I throw this Arrival decision over to you, the people. Those in favour of Ug passing his Arrival, raise your voice.'

There is unanimous clapping and screaming. I think that's a yes. Next to me, Ugthorn embraces his son, Ug.

‘Good,' says Korg. ‘I'm glad that has been settled. Now for Helix –'

But before Korg can get another word out, a chant starts up, which I think is being led by my mother.

‘Helix! Helix! Helix!'

Korg thumps his staff into the rock three times and Tor blows his horn for silence. The chant dies down.

‘Thank you,' says Korg. ‘Helix may never be the greatest hunter in our clan, but hunting alone is not all that should matter to us. If we, as a people, are to grow and prosper, it will be due to our relations with others. Helix has shown, against great odds, that he is brave and caring and that he seeks the truth with all his being. That Ugthorn is standing among us today is proof that Helix should be proud of who he is and what he believes in.'

Korg pauses. Folk take this as a sign for them to make noise, lots of noise. There is so much cheering and clapping that I can only just hear what Korg is saying now.

‘Let it be known that from this day forward, Helix of the mountain has Arrived.'

Later that day, as the sun is beginning to reach the landline, I sit on the Ledge with Ug on one side of me and Saleeka on the other.

Korg has declared that from now on, what is contained on the sacred tablets will be shared and discussed with everyone on the mountain. Most importantly, folk will be allowed to agree or disagree with the teachings – no one will be punished for their views.

Folk from the Dark Side and Newstone have gone home, happy with what has been resolved. The air on the mountain is fresh and promising. Tomorrow will be a new day in all senses.

‘I still think Speel should have been banished,' says Saleeka.

‘Where to?' I say. ‘No one on the Dark Side wants him. I can't imagine him living in Newstone. And as
for Fenswell, I don't think he's quite ready to live there yet.'

‘You are right,' says Ug. ‘It is better that he repays his debts to the mountain folk.'

‘I think it will work out all right,' I say. ‘Crag and Tor will make sure he behaves himself. He has a good knowledge of the tablets and so will make an excellent assistant Storykeeper.'

‘
Assistant
Storykeeper?' repeats Saleeka.

‘Yes, he'll just have to get used to it.'

‘And who will be the head Storykeeper?' asks Ug.

‘Veldo. He'll stay in Newstone and most of the tablets will be transferred there.'

‘I still can't believe that you both passed your Arrivals! You're both cavemen! Especially you, Helix. I mean, seriously …'

‘I'm actually not that keen on the term “caveman”, anyway,' I say. ‘I've decided I'm happy to be a caveteen for some time yet.'

‘Caveteen?' says Ug, pondering the thought. ‘That sounds like an idea.'

‘And what of your marriage, Saleeka?' I ask. ‘I hear that Sherwin has eyes for another girl.'

‘Yes, it's very sad, so sad that it pains me to talk about it. It appears, Helix, that your brother has chosen another. A girl from the Dark Side, would you believe – she is known for her meatcakes.'

‘Yes,' I say. ‘Apparently Sherwin is the only one who can stomach them – they're a perfect match.'

We laugh and stare out towards the landline, where the far skies are glowing red.

‘How's your father, Ug? I ask.

‘He is recovering well,' says Ug.

‘I've heard some folk say that he should be the next Korg,' says Saleeka.

‘It is too early to make such decisions,' says Ug. ‘If he is the next Korg, though, it will all be thanks to Helix.'

‘And thanks to you, too,' I say. ‘You were the one who chose to cross the river with me – and you as well, Saleeka.'

Ug and Saleeka shake their heads as if it's no big deal.

‘What was it again that Korg told you?' I ask Ug.

Ug doesn't have to think. ‘You can conquer all with friendship,' he says.

I look down at Rockfall and then beyond Fenswell, as far as I can see. The world is bigger than it's ever been before.

Thank you to everyone not mentioned in this thank you – that's cheating, I know! But you know who you are (or you think you do). There's that saying, ‘It takes a village to raise a book' (or something like that), and it's true.

Special thanks to Gabrielle McCubbery, who started things off – she once gave me a plastic bag full of books to read, all of which have stayed with me since; to Bob Drane, my first real English teacher, who scared me into reading, writing and thinking all at once; to Clare Renner at RMIT, who took the time to read my work and offer valuable guidance; to Anne Reilly, David Lawrence, Ilka Tampke, Jason Cotter, Jean-Philippe Galliot, Jon Barnett, Michelle Deans, Paul Biegler, Peter O'Connor, Skye McEwen and Sophie Splatt, who
at various times and in various ways encouraged me to write.

And thanks to those folk who made this book happen, in a publishing sense: to Rick Raftos, my agent, for first taking a punt on me and, ever since then, being calm, wise and professional; kudos to Jules Faber for his wonderful illustrations and patience working through their many incarnations; huge appreciation and admiration to Bronwyn O'Reilly and Cristina Briones for the brilliant work they did editing
Helix and the Arrival
; and lastly, special, special thanks to my publisher, Zoe Walton, who believed in my work (even before
Helix
) and stuck with me during what seemed, at times, a glacial journey.

Finally, this book is dedicated to my mum, Diana, my wife, Emma, and my beautiful daughter, Freya. Together they've made many more sacrifices than I have to allow me to write this book. And also – let's face it – they make me the best person I can be.