CHAPTER SIX
Craspedacusta Carcer
Rachel prayed her mother would see sense about keeping Flotsam. By the tone of her distracted reply, she felt she had at least a chance to keep the one-eared kitten as a pet. However, convincing her father was a different matter entirely, as he disliked cats as much as he disliked Mr Lovejoy, his overbearing, self-righteous, pompous boss.
Rachel felt stifling in the confines of the claustrophobic cabin, so she quickly made a beeline towards the deck to get some fresh air; she rested her arms on the rusty guardrail and peered inland. In the far distance, a smattering of black mountains rose up; closer to home, fertile forests smothered the undulating hills that seemed to go on forever and a day.
‘C’mon, Rachel – the kitchen won’t clean itself,’ Lorraine hollered from down below decks. ‘Lydia’s busy mopping out the bilge, so Larry needs a helping hand with the washing up.’
‘I’ll – I’ll be down soon,’ she replied, but her mind was elsewhere.
‘Well, don’t be too long,’ Lorraine added. ‘Idle hands and all that…’
So much for the exciting trip to the park, Rachel thought, but her spirits lifted as the cacophony of nature reached her ears. For the first time in ages, she felt a definite air of excitement. She felt that somewhere on the island, an adventure was calling her, and that adventure wouldn’t involve scrubbing the deck, clearing the kitchen table or doing the washing up.
With the stench of bleach, vinegar and lemon wafting up from the bowels of the boat, she made a snap decision and decided to make herself scarce, so she disembarked down the creaky gangplank and left the chores in the grownups’ capable hands.
✽✽✽
Rachel stood at the end of the pier and spotted a sandbar nearby. Leaving Suzy far behind, she ploughed through the dense bulrushes. Barely five minutes had passed, when she wondered if she should just give it up and turn back; however, her nostrils smelt something that had no right to be there and headed towards the strong salty smell. Pulling bits of bulrush out of her hair and spitting out the rest, she found herself staring down into a colossal crater of rolling sand dunes, made up of mossy half-sunken gravestones that surrounded the tranquil pool at its centre.
Rachel stumbled down the cumbersome embankment. Weaving her way in between the gravestones, she approached the pool and wondered why this body of water smelt so strongly of salt, as one of the largest freshwater lakes in the country surrounded her. Over to her right, a brass-buttoned grey overcoat hung over the tallest gravestone. With her curiosity piqued, she pushed the overcoat aside and tried to read what was left of the sandblasted slab of rock:
We did not hunger for death or the manner in which we met it… We alone must atone for the tragedy that tore us apart… eternity beckons…
Rachel wondered if the other weathered epitaphs would make any more sense, but as she turned her back on the pool, a sudden slurping sound distracted her. Her head spun around, and with her eyes peeled, they hunted for the source of the peculiar noise.
A brief gust of wind drove a fine white mist in her direction, and in an instant, her eyes stung, welling up with water as an unadulterated salty mist overpowered her sense of smell.
Ripples of concentric waves lapped against the pool’s crusty-white shoreline, but then, a plopping noise emanated from its centre, and her heart skipped a beat as a wild orchid bobbed to the surface; her favourite flower spun around in the pool, propelled clockwise by the featherweight wind. Overcome with sheer delight, she bounded over towards the pool and quickly knelt down. With giddy excitement on seeing her favourite flower, she plucked the orchid from out of the stirring water.
The water level rose rapidly and soaked the hemline of her dress.
With a slithering swiftness, the orchid soared above the surface and contracted itself around her right hand, and she let out a deafening cry. The intense throbbing pain threatened to overwhelm her. Wracked by so much pain, she almost fell headfirst into the pool as the flower dived back into the watery depths, taking her hand with it. Fighting back her fear, she tried to pull her right hand out of the water with her left.
The strong salty water burned her warty wound, and droplets of blood stained the unblemished pool.
To her relief, the orchid’s slimy tendrils released her right hand, but they slithered and spun rapidly around her left – crushing her wound. With her strength sapping away, she used her right hand to free her left, but to her horror, steel vice-like fingers wrenched her right hand away with vigorous resolve and plunged her left completely underwater.
Right behind her, a man’s voice thick with desperation, bellowed, ‘YOU MUST FIGHT IT UNDERWATER!’
Through blurry eyes, Rachel cried, ‘Let go – you’re hurting me.’
The man ignored her. He forced her right hand behind her back and gripped her left wrist even tighter. ‘HOW OLD ARE YOU?’ he demanded.
‘I-I don’t understand,’ Rachel blubbered.
‘QUICKLY – TELL ME YOUR AGE?’
‘I’m ten,’ Rachel blurted out.
‘Then we still have a chance,’ he said gravely. ‘What’s your name?’ he added frantically, his firm grip unyielding as he pulled her closer to him.
‘R-Rachel,’ she replied through the unrelenting pain.
‘Now listen to me, Rachel – you’ve been poisoned!’
‘P-p-poisoned by what?’ she stammered, gasping for air.
‘Craspedacusta Carcer,’ he replied with an edge of foreboding riding his fearful reply. ‘A particularly nasty jellyfish – and fatal to –’
Rachel collapsed into a heap. Her dazed stupor ended as an obnoxious smell brought her back to her senses.
‘Rachel – wake up,’ the man snapped.
‘Let me sleep,’ she said droopily. ‘Just let me sleep.’
The man shook her awake. Her pain melded into a dull ache that throbbed through her warty hand. The pool suddenly rippled as if it had just shivered from the cold.
‘Tell me, Rachel – what do you see in the pool?’
A shock of ginger hair coalesced right in front of her, and she recoiled in horror as an auburn apparition slowly transformed into a young girl. Wave upon wave of fear and shame flooded her senses; and for a fleeting moment, she prayed the physical pain would return.
‘Rachel – what do you see in the pool?’ he demanded at once.
‘A girl – a young schoolgirl,’ she answered timidly.
‘Who is she?’
Rachel didn’t want to answer his question. ‘I don’t know,’ she lied.
‘The jellyfish poison running through your veins seeks out your darkest secrets and relives them one by one,’ he hissed into her ear. ‘The poison rallies your fears and uses them against you. Little by little, piece by piece, the poison destroys you from within. Lying will do you no good.’
Rachel swallowed.
‘Unless you face your daemon now – you will surely die!’ he added resolutely, his portentous demand laced with abject resolve.
‘Her name is Alice – Alice Winterbright,’ Rachel said at last.
Alice’s apparition splashed across the pool and into Rachel’s blood.
‘Rachel, do you know why she’s in the poison pool?’
‘Yes…’ she choked and thought about Alice, her best friend.
✽✽✽
The two of them met at Plums’ Preparatory. However, Alice’s father lost his government job, and he could no longer afford her private school fees anymore, so she continued her education at Gravelings, and that’s when they began to lose touch. Rachel knew all too well she was to blame for their waning friendship. A year later and what with new friends knocking on her door, Alice Winterbright had become a mere afterthought.
But on one miserable dull day in autumn, Rachel’s school friends had interrupted her frantic Latin revision and dragged her over to Gravelings.
By the school gates, schoolchildren shouted, ‘FIGHT!’ repeatedly.
Rachel didn’t want to be there, but Jenny Marsh grabbed her purple tie and pulled her through the crowd like a horse. By the roadside, a bloodied blonde-headed girl hung onto another girl’s leg and bit down hard into her ham-sized ankle. The girl’s massive frame crashed to the tarmac, and she stayed put, reeling in agony as she clutched her injured ankle and wailed. Gravelings’ schoolchildren whooped and cheered, but their excitement ended abruptly, as another ginormous girl came out of nowhere and body slammed the blonde-headed girl over a stumpy wall.
Schoolchildren rushed over and peered over the low wall. Silence and then laughter filled the air as the blonde-headed schoolgirl crawled out of the muddy pool and onto the sandbags that had broken her fall.
Rachel hadn’t laughed at all: the bottle blonde-headed girl’s green eyes stared back at her with shame. In her dripping wet school uniform, Alice Winterbright reached out with a ripped sleeve and bruised hand, but Rachel averted her eyes in disgust.
How could Alice degrade herself like this, Rachel thought.
Alice’s apparition sank beneath the pool and vanished with a plop.
The man let out a heavy sigh and released his grip.
Rachel heard him get up, but as she tried to pull her left hand out of the pool, it wouldn’t budge and sheer panic set in. ‘My hand’s still stuck in the pool!’ she cried out in desperation.
The man’s hand rested lightly on her shoulder, and she felt his hot breath against her ear as he whispered, ‘I’m sorry, Rachel – but you must face your daemon alone.’
‘Please don’t leave me,’ she pleaded, but she knew the man had already gone, leaving her entirely alone with nothing but fear and regret.
The pool’s water churned.
Rachel’s body wasn’t her own anymore, and she groaned as her face began to swell up. Blood trickled out of her sore nose and down over her cut lip. Bruises spread across her pale skin, and as her body soaked up Alice’s physical pain, the pool’s surface slowly turned crystal clear.
Scores of baying schoolchildren pointed at her from out of the pool’s reflection; their cruel laughter and jeers filled her with nothing but self-pity and loathing as Alice’s humiliation flowed through her veins.
On the other side of the road, a young boy sped along the pavement and yelled, ‘Alice, stay right there – I’m coming over.’
Rachel stared spellbound into the pool and at the boy who darted across the road. Her past came to the fore, and she fought hard to forget the remorseful memory, but the screeching of tyres and the sickening thud ended that unwanted thought.
The boy’s twisted torso rolled into the litter-strewn gutter.
Rachel felt the full force of Alice’s horror, and she reached out with her hand, screaming, ‘Jacob!’
The schoolchildren piled over the wall and ran towards the injured boy who lay as still as a rock…
✽✽✽
Rachel’s tears fell down her cheeks and into the churning pool. As the image of Jacob faded, her left hand came free, and she quickly scurried backwards. The pool gurgled loudly for a few seconds and then made an unnerving sucking sound as a whirlpool rippled into existence.
With Larry’s account of dangerous whirlpools popping up all over the place, she got up and smartly leapt back out of harm’s way.
As the water whooshed down the pool’s sinkhole, she heard a familiar voice bellow, ‘RACHEL – OH, THERE YOU ARE.’
Managing to raise a faint smile, she waved back at Larry’s relieved face. Feeling her strength returning, she inspected her left hand and the rest of her body. Her latent injuries had all but vanished, and even her warts had disappeared, leaving only a faint outline of an untidy scar.
‘IT’S OK, LORRAINE – I’VE FOUND RACHEL BY THE GRAVESTONES,’ Larry shouted over his shoulder and trundled towards her. ‘No wonder we couldn’t see you down here – didn’t you hear us calling you?’
‘Oh, I must have dozed off,’ Rachel fibbed, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand and feigning a sleepy yawn. ‘It must have been that English fry up that made me take forty winks – I’m still stuffed.’
‘Well, your mother’s having kittens,’ Larry informed her. ‘She’s been worried sick about you disappearing like that,’ he added chidingly, but his discourse petered out as his curious eyes fell on the desiccated pool.
Rachel mirrored his gaze.
‘My word – would you take a look at that,’ Larry squeaked. ‘I’ve never seen the like,’ he added and edged towards the pool.
Rachel gulped. Larry knelt down beside the gelatinous lump that had caught his eye: a large jellyfish wobbled by the bank.
‘Careful, Larry, that jellyfish looks dangerous,’ squawked Rachel nervously as she took in its bloodied fringe-like tentacles that extended from its bloated bell-shaped body.
‘The freshwater jellyfish in these waters aren’t dangerous. In fact, it’s very rare you see them at all,’ he said with intense interest. ‘Mind you – I’ve never seen one as big as this before. Maybe it’s this damn heatwave that’s bringing them to the surface,’ he added musingly and picked up a knurled and knotted stick off the bleached-white sand by the pool. He gave her a reassuring smile and then prodded the jellyfish with the stick, but it didn’t react, so he prodded the jellyfish a little bit harder.
‘D’you think it’s dead?’ Rachel asked Larry as it hadn’t budged at all.
Larry chewed his lower lip. ‘Hmmm… seems like it,’ he pondered, ‘but maybe it’s just playing possum – you know – faking death.’
Rachel nodded. The jellyfish appeared dead out of the water, but she knew what its poison could do: she had faced her only daemon, but she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to face a lifetime of them.
The stranger knew about the poison pool. Who was he and where did he go? Larry hadn’t mentioned seeing the man when they were out looking for her.
‘Best we leave it well alone, eh?’ Larry told her straight. ‘I don’t know what it is – but that’s no gimballed jellyfish.’
Scuffling noises reached their ears. ‘Oh, there you are,’ Lorraine spluttered and slid down the sloping embankment with little difficulty. ‘We’ve been calling you for ages, Rachel – where have –?’
‘– She’s been fast asleep,’ Larry interjected.
‘It must be the invigorating air,’ added Rachel, but her demeanour changed as she marched up to her mother. ‘Mum, I’ve had a long think, and – and I’ve decided I don’t want to be a Prefect anymore.’
‘What’s brought this on, Rachel?’
‘I’m just not cut out for the job – and I don’t think I ever was,’ she said firmly. ‘Alice Winterbright should’ve been Prefect – not me.’
Lorraine pursed her lips and said, ‘All right, I’ll talk to Miss Pritchard about it next week – I’m sure she’ll understand.’
Miss Lucinda Pritchard would understand perfectly, Rachel thought, and in a heartbeat, her headmistress would offer Miss Penelope Asquith-Wells her coveted position of youngest Prefect at Plums.
Larry gave them such a broad smile, they thought his face would split open. ‘Speaking of Miss Winterbright,’ he beamed. ‘Alice told me she was heartbroken at leaving Plums – but she’s finally settled in at Gravelings.’
‘Have they stopped bullying her?’ Rachel asked, almost whispering.
‘Oh, I don’t think anyone’s going to bully Gravelings’ new Head Girl!’
Rachel couldn’t believe what she had just heard.
‘B-but – but she’s Rachel’s age,’ Lorraine told Larry.
‘She’s the youngest Head Girl they’ve ever appointed,’ he replied.
‘Well deserved Alice,’ said Rachel, heartfelt on hearing the news.
‘Alice and her parents came down for a visit,’ Larry informed them. ‘We all went out on Suzy – you know – to celebrate the good news.’
‘I bet Alice’s mother didn’t steer Suzy?’ said Rachel, raising a smile.
‘Talking of steering,’ Lorraine harrumphed, returning her daughter’s smile. ‘I think we better get a move on and steer ourselves away from this beach. We’ve spent quite enough time here already – and there’s still a fair amount of walking to do before we get to the signpost.’
‘Er – hadn’t we better be heading back to Suzy?’ chimed Larry. ‘Lydia will be wondering where we’ve got –’
‘– Lydia will be fine,’ interrupted Lorraine. ‘She told me she wanted everyone out of the way, so she can scrub the upper deck in peace.’
Still feeling guilty about not helping with the chores, Rachel followed the pair of them out of the sand dunes towards a flint-walled footpath, but she had an uncontrollable urge to face the poison pool one last time.
Her eyes squinted as she fought the bright sunlight, but there was no mistake: the grey overcoat and jellyfish had vanished; and to her utter astonishment, a pair of brown boots and gingham socks now lay at the foot of the tallest gravestone.