The Battle for Duncragglin (3 page)

Left to himself, Alex spent a moment looking over the contents of a tall bookshelf. On the top level, he saw Harry Potter books and what looked to be the entire Redwall series. Several shelves down were football trophies and a team picture. Alex looked closely at the faces, but could not find Willie's.

A piggybank caught his attention. Alex picked it up and carefully tugged on a small lever. An iron fisherman abruptly snapped backward with his rod, pulling a fish up and over. A coin slot in the fish's mouth clanged against a larger slot on the top of a barrel. Alex cautiously shook the piggybank back and forth. It rattled. He pulled the fish back to reset the spring.

“Daaaad! He's trying to steal my money.”

In his haste to put the piggybank back down, Alex fumbled. The half-sprung fish snapped against his finger.

Bellowing from downstairs was Mr. McRae. “Craig, get away from there – leave him alone!”

There was a shuffling noise outside the door. Alex heard the boy's voice again, farther away this time. “Why does he have to stay here? I don't want him in my room. It's no fair!”

Mr. McRae said
weesht,
and the voices trailed away.

Alex was beat. He felt unsteady on his feet and heard a faint ringing in his ears. Before getting into his pajamas, he stuffed the end of his sock into the keyhole. Then he closed the curtains to block out as much daylight as possible and gratefully crawled under the cool covers. He felt like he was in the hold of a ship that was gently lolling in an ocean swell. Wave after wave of darkness reached up until one rolled right over him.

The next thing he knew, a voice was calling, “Alex, Alex – time to get up.”

Blinking, Alex looked around the dim room. The door was ajar, and Annie was peering around the corner.

“Sorry to wake you, but my dad says you won't get back to sleep tonight if you sleep more now. Come, we're about to have a bite of lunch.”

It was hard to get up. Splashing cold water over his face made Alex feel only slightly better. He shut off the tap and watched the water settle in the basin. His pale shimmering reflection stared back hollow-eyed, as if from far away. Alex hoped he didn't look
that
bad. He pulled the plug.

Stumbling down the stairs, Alex followed the sound of voices to a dining room.

“Have a seat, Alex.” Mr. McRae thumped the empty chair next to him. “Annie, pass the bread, please.”

Annie ripped off a hunk and passed him the loaf. Alex gripped it with both hands and tore off a piece. He'd eaten only sliced bread before and wondered what to do with it. He watched Willie slather butter over his bread, then load it with ham and cheese. Alex did the same and gave the bread a nibble. The inside was soft and chewy, but the crust was another matter. Still, the others were crunching their way through it, so Alex did too.

“That's enough now, Craig,” Mr. McRae said sternly. “It's time to come out and get up to the table.”

A muffled “no!” came from behind a couch in the adjoining room.

“NOW!” Mr. McRae's shout was met by silence. “Five … four …”

“Oh, fine!” A young boy's legs, then the rest of him, wriggled backwards from behind the couch. He was a few years younger than Alex, perhaps nine or ten. He plopped himself in a chair between Annie and Willie, arms folded and jaw jutting defiantly.

“Look, Craig.” Annie pointed to an aquarium that bubbled in the corner of the room. “Your wormy fish is coming out.”

A small eel-like fish had emerged from under the driftwood. It squiggled in the gravel and wound about the plants.

“Don't care,” Craig said, but he couldn't help but look.

Willie cleared his throat to catch Alex's attention. “There are nine cows in a field,” he said expectantly. “Which one's closest to Africa?”

Alex stared at him blankly.

“Coo eight. Get it? Coo-eight? Say it quickly.”

Alex didn't get it. A burst of laughter erupted around the table, and he felt his face turn red.

“Nae more of that,” Mr. McRae cut in. “It's time to get the jobs done. But first, Alex, call y'r aunt and ask how she's doing. Willie, once he's done that, take him out to the barn and get twenty bales of hay and ten bales of straw ready for the coos. Craig, off to the henhouse wi' ye to collect the eggs.”

Alex galumphed down the muddy laneway with Willie, cheerful even though the rubber boots he was given were two sizes too big. He had never been in a barn before and was eager to see the cows.

Thick, low-lying clouds emitted sheens of drizzle. The sun poked through now and then, but it was still chilly. Alex was thankful he had Willie's old jersey. He didn't mind its holes and too-long sleeves: Willie looked equally dorky.

“Why's your dad so much harder to understand than everyone else?” Alex asked.

“It's because he grew up in Aberdeen,” Willie replied. “Most Scots don't understand him either.”

“And what about your mum – is she away somewhere?” Alex was curious why no one had mentioned her.

Willie looked away. “She's gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Don't know. One day, she took our dog Tigger and left; we haven't heard from her since. That was over a year ago.”

“Took your dog and left?” Alex was stunned. He thought about his own missing parents. For years he kept thinking
they might suddenly show up again, that everything would go back to how it was … but it never happened.

Alex recalled all too well the confusion and chaos, the initial reassurances of “don't worry” and “I'm sure they will be found” becoming less frequent, until they stopped altogether. Finally came the chilling and terrifying realization that they could be gone for good.

The boys walked up an earthen ramp to a tall barn door. Willie lifted the wooden latch and pulled. The heavy door creaked open enough for them to slip through, then closed behind them with its own weight.

Alex strained to see in the huge dim cavern. Thin shafts of sunlight angled through gaps high up in the barn boards.

“Watch your step.” Willie kicked aside clusters of loose straw. “See these floorboards? Some of them are loose. Those big holes over there are where we throw down the bales.”

Snorting noises were coming from under the floor. Shuffling cautiously through the straw, Alex approached a large dark hole. He knelt and peered over the edge. Down in the darkness below were swaying backs of cows that plodded about in a thick slush. The stench was overpowering.

“How do they get out?”

“Through the sliding door on the far side. We leave it open. They can go in and out whenever they want.”

Alex wondered why the cows, given half a chance, would not get out and never come back. Then he remembered the exterior pen was not much better.

“You get the straw,” Willie said. “I'll get the hay. Don't mix them up.”

“What's the difference?”

“Hay is greener. It's what they eat. Straw is for their stalls. Here, use one of these.” Willie passed Alex a metal bar. It had a handgrip at one end, a hook at the other. “And don't pull too many bales out from the bottom, or the top will come down on you.”

Alex watched in admiration as Willie climbed, using his hook for support. High up on a timber, Willie hooked a bale, pulled it out from the others, and dropped it over the edge of the pile. It landed with a thud, blasting up clouds of dust that sparkled in the shafts of light.

Alex looked dubiously up the wall of straw that loomed over him. Heights made him nervous. He stabbed his hook into a nearby bale, catching the baling twine that held it together. Several hard yanks and it pulled free. The bale next to it didn't look so secure anymore, so he hooked it and pulled it out too. Encouraged, he pulled out a few more.

A rustling noise came from above. Too late, he saw the overhanging bales start to tumble. He leapt, but a falling bale knocked him flat. He covered the back of his head with his hands. Bales thudded down all over him and then it was quiet.

Holding the sleeve of his jersey over his nose and mouth, Alex sputtered and coughed. He cautiously wriggled his pinned leg out from under a bale and felt about in the darkness. The way forward was blocked. Finding the space he was in too small to turn around in, he squirmed backward. He didn't notice that he was wriggling onto a loose board until
the front tipped up, the back fell, and Alex dropped like a sack of grain into the depths below.

“Noooooooo!” Alex was all too aware of the sea of sloshy manure that awaited him. He landed with a heavy thud. Tentatively looking up, he saw he had landed on a cow's back, facing the cow's behind.

The cow's head shot up. “
Mooaaooow.
” It leapt into the air and kicked. Alex hung on for dear life. It took to stampeding through the slosh, barn beams and other cows flashing by. Startled moos came from all around.

Suddenly, it was brighter. Bucking and twisting, the cow had left the barn. Alex felt his grip slip and, for the second time, he was airborne. Arms and legs flailing, he landed facedown on the hard ground. It hurt, but it was better than landing in cow plop.

Terrified that the maddened cow's hooves would come crashing down on him any second, he curled into a ball and covered his head with his arms. Hearing nothing, he shifted and peered between his elbows. The cows were all heading away in a rapid little trot, udders swaying to and fro under their backsides. The puny electrical fence there to keep them back didn't even slow them down.

Now I've really done it.
Alex picked himself up, brushing straw off his jersey and shaking it out of his hair.

The cows were completely out of sight. Alex didn't know what to do, so he trudged back to the barn, dragging his feet the whole way. Inside, a muffled voice was calling, “Alex, Alex, can you hear me?”

A bale wiggled high up the pile. It flipped end-over-end down the slope. Alex clambered up the bales to the crater
where the bale had come from. Down in the darkness, he saw Willie struggling to pull out yet another bale.

“I'm over here,” Alex said.

Willie turned and stared, mouth agape. “How … how did you get there?”

“I fell down a loose floorboard.”

“Phew!”
Willie wiped his sweaty, dust-streaked brow with the back of his hand. “Dad would've killed me if you were dead.”

“You sure moved a lot of bales.” Alex felt badly.

“No kidding.” Willie chuckled. “I think we've got more ready for the cows than my dad expected.”

“I don't think he'll be too happy that the cows escaped.”

“What?!”

Willie dashed out of the barn and ran across the field, Alex close behind. Rounding a bend, they almost ran headlong into frightened cows that were being herded back toward the barn by Mr. McRae, Annie, and Craig. Seeing the boys, the cows hesitated, looking about for a different direction to run.

“Quick, this way!” Willie yelled. The two boys sprinted to block an escape route.

“Willie, turn the power off the line.” Mr. McRae waved his stick. “The rest of ye, spread out and make sure the coos don't get past. Alex, if they start coming at ye, shout ‘coo-boss.’ Stand your ground. Jump up and down, if need be.”

Willie emerged from the barn. “Power's off,” he shouted.

Mr. McRae picked up a length of fallen electrical wire. “Okay, everybody, get it back on the posts.”

Checking first to see that the others could touch the wire without getting a shock, Alex cautiously lifted a section and
straightened the flimsy insulator posts. Mr. McRae came round to inspect.

“Okay, Willie, turn 'er back on.”

Mr. McRae stabbed the air toward the cows with one finger while silently moving his lips. He counted from left to right and back again. His lips tightened. “One's missing. Willie, go check if she's in the barn.”

Willie disappeared, only to emerge moments later shaking his head.

Mr. McRae stamped his foot. “It's Vanessa that's missing. Willie, Craig, and ye, too, Alex, spread out and look for her. She cannae be far. When ye find her, bring her in the side gate and close her up in the big stall. She's due to be calving soon, and I hope all this excitement doesnae make her pop. Annie! Help me with the milking. I'm far behind schedule.”